


Rainbow Rocket University

by BanhTM



Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: AU Where Pokevillains are Professors, Adventures, Bad Puns, Cameos, Family Bonding, Food brings people together, Gen, Giovanni looks out for his family, Rainbow Rocket, Six Grown Men Experience What Friendship Is All About, University, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2020-07-23 22:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 97,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BanhTM/pseuds/BanhTM
Summary: Rainbow Rocket University invites the finest Trainers to only not excel in academics, but also to hone their battle skills. Professor Giovanni never understood why he needed five roommates, nor was he prepared for the joy and tears of such an experience. AKA a series of episodes with Giovanni and his colleagues, not necessarily in chronological order.





	1. Professors and Shipping Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pokevillains hear about Shipping Wars for the first time.

It is the week after Midterms for the professors at Rainbow Rocket University. It’s also the week where they mentally prepare themselves for a surge in office hours visits and angry emails concerning grades or general complaints about the class.

In Cyrus’s case, he extends his availability and refrains from opening his email for that week. He knows no one will come to his office after the test, much less any given day. It’ll give him time to himself.

So when Dawn and Lucas approach him with _that_ question, all the careful planning in the world is rendered useless in the face of college-student-level stupidity.

“Professor Cyrus. What’s your opinion on Professor Giovanni?”

Cyrus makes sure that he heard the question correctly. “He is a very capable lecturer. I am fortunate enough to know him as a colleague.”

He doesn’t like the smile on Dawn’s face. “Yeah, but do you have any… uh… _special_ thoughts about him?”

Cyrus blinks. Lucas tries to keep a straight face and fails terribly. Cyrus’s seasoned teaching instincts scream at him to stop before things will become too late to fix. “What exactly is happening here?” The students flinch at his icy tone. The two shoot each other a glance before scampering along.

Yes, while the Professors prepare for post-Midterm aggravation, the students are celebrating a fan-favorite occasion of their own: Shipping Week.

“Hey, Professor Maxie.”

“Yes? May?”

“Is Archie the water to your dirt?”

Maxie’s glasses slip off his nose. “ _Excuse me?!”_

Elsewhere in the University, students are forming groups to prepare for the Shipping Wars. The veterans have diagrammed charts and recorded all interactions amongst the professors, especially those seldom moments when their co-workers are mentioned. The most popular groups focus on four professors in particular…

“You can’t seriously ship Ghetsis with anyone,” Dawn huffs while proudly donning a black bandana with “ACS” in giant, gold letters.

Hilda rolls her eyes. “Oh, honey. We’re still here, aren’t we?”

Posters of said Shipping Week invades the institution overnight, slapped across school boards and anything else with a surface. The students manage to evade the other faculty’s suspicion by petitioning that Shipping Week be a temporary, school-wide event beforehand. Yes, months of careful planning for five days of rampant nonsense. There had never been so much support for a student-led initiative in the school’s _history._ What’s more surprising is that this sentiment of shipping transcended across polar ends of the student population.

Lysandre happens to come across a frozen Archie one day. The marine biology professor is staring into the paper like it’s a new specimen waiting to be labeled.

“Lion-man.” Archie shows him the pamphlet. “Why is Archie and I looking at each other like that?”

Lysander honestly has no answer. “What is a ‘Hardenshipping?’ Maybe it’s because you both like Bug Pokemon?” That’s a stretch, considering there’s no mention of a Cascoon or Metapod on the flyer.

Meanwhile, in another part of the school, Leaf is about to leave class when Professor Giovanni beacons at her to come closer. She exchanges looks with Red before sheepishly shuffling to the front.

“Lately, there’s been a flood of students wearing that shirt.” Giovanni’s brow furrows. “I’ve never seen such underhanded marketing techniques for a brand to gain popularity overnight. Is that a new band?”

“Uh… yes?” Leaf coughs loudly.

“What does ‘ACS’ stand for?” Giovanni leans closer to inspect the fine print, much to Leaf’s embarrassment. “Hmm… ‘Absolutecontrolshipping ef – tee - w?’”

Leaf squeaks like a boiling kettle. Giovanni jerks back in alarm. Red hurries over to his friend, grabs her hand, shoots Giovanni a terse nod, and runs.

“What the hell…” Giovanni mutters to no one in particular.

* * *

“Colleagues,” Giovanni announces once everyone is back in his condominium and sitting at the dinner table. “It has come to my attention that a new craze has captured the students by storm. Whatever this ‘ACS’ band is, they make the most seasoned businessmen bow in shame.”

Cyrus looks up from his coffee cup. “Oh. So ‘ACS’ is a band? I was under the impression that it was a new catchphrase.”

Giovanni turns to Cyrus. “Oh. So you’ve seen it too?”

“Yes. I have noticed some students following me with said shirts and flags. I assumed they wanted to talk about their midterms, but they ran as soon as I attempted to make conversation…” He trails off, expression darkening.

“A student made an inappropriate comment about Archie and me.” Maxie massages his temples. “Though I don’t know if her statement was indeed malicious… that look on her face made me worry.”

Archie suddenly gasps. “Yo, Maxie! Look what I found outside my office!” He shows the earlier pamphlet to everyone in the room. Maxie’s eyebrows scrunch together like hairy Caterpie.

“What in Groudon’s name is a ‘Hardenshipping?’”

Lysandre sighs. “I too, have felt unsafe in my own office in the last few days. Everywhere I went, I have the feeling of impending doom over my shoulder. Now I’m too afraid to leave this house because I fear the students are waiting to ambush me as soon as I open the door.” He wraps his arms around his torso and shudders from a nonexistent chill.

The roommates stare at him for a second. “I mean,” Archie begins. “If something like _that_ manages to get under Lion-man’s skin, then we should take this issue more seriously.”

“I think you all are being overly dramatic.” Ghetsis waves his hand dismissively. “This is just a silly charade that is sure to die soon enough.” Then he throws his head back and cackles. “As luck will have it, _I_ am the only one left unscathed by this—”

Giovanni shoves another pamphlet into Ghetsis’s smug face. No one dares speak as Ghetsis’s eyes shred through the paper. Then the veins pop to his forehead, and Ghetsis lunges forward, only for Giovanni to pull the flyer back with a triumphant smirk.

“Someone will PAY!” Ghetsis roars. “They dare to defile my perfect image with something so… so…” He struggles for the right words. “So humiliating!”

Cyrus also studies the flyer in question with a frown. “I have also come to notice that we, the staff, are associated with the band names.” He looks up at the group. “For example, Archie and Maxie are listed under the term of ‘Hardenshipping,’ according to the students. A student had also asked me about Giovanni’s capabilities as a colleague not long ago.” Giovanni shoots Cyrus a strange look. “I can confidently state that Giovanni and I are somehow associated with the term ‘AbsoluteControlShipping.’”

Lysandre laces his hands. “Shipping? As in packaging materials?”

“Maybe they’re a shipping company!” Archie says.

Maxie scowls. “No, idiot. Why would hormone-inducing nineteen-year-olds embrace a shipping company as the new craze?”

Ghetsis rakes his hand over his hair, almost yanking at his roots. “Curse the band and their sadistic marketing agency!”

Giovanni claps his hands to bring the group’s attention back to the issue. “All right, everyone. I know that we don’t usually see eye-to-eye, but it’s time we put aside our differences for a common goal. Everyone gather as much information and evidence on this thing so we can finally unravel their nefarious scheme.”

And for the first time since they lived under the same roof, the roommates all nod their heads.

* * *

“Miss Dawn.”

Dawn’s head snaps up at the Professor’s stony voice. He’s looking at her expectantly. With another sigh, she heads over to the podium.

“Yes, Professor Cyrus?”

“Regarding what you’ve told me earlier, what is it that you want to know about Giovanni?”

“O-oh. Uh…” She quickly moves her gaze away, but Cyrus’s eyes grow cold and freezes her in place. “A-ah. I-I-I mean… like… if you had any special thoughts about him.”

Cyrus frowns. “Special thoughts?”

“Y-yeah. Like… If you had to compliment him, what would you say?”

Cyrus tilts his head, thinking. “I’d tell him that he has excellent work ethic. While he can be brute, I know he has his mind set in the right place.”

Dawn bites her lips. “Not like _that!”_ Cyrus is taken aback at her sudden rise in volume. She sounds almost… disappointed. “I mean, if you had to say something nice about his eyes. His face. The way he eats, maybe.”

_Now_ Cyrus is completely lost. “I’m… not sure. I’ve never noticed such trivial things before.”

Dawn huffs and crosses her arms. “At this rate, I’m gonna lose,” she mutters half-to-herself. Then she raises her head. “Do you like Professor Giovanni?” 

Cyrus blinks. “I don’t hate him?” His tone slips uncertainly between irritation and disbelief.

But Dawn appears to have found what she was looking for. She claps her hands. “That’s good enough for me! I gotta go, Professor! Byeee!” She flashes him a bright grin before tromping out of the classroom.

A dreadful feeling begins to weigh in Cyrus’s gut.

* * *

Leaf barges into Giovanni’s office hours as if she’d just finished a marathon. Giovanni gapes as the student drops into the opposing chair with a giant scowl as if she’d just had her Pokemon stolen.

“Can I help you?” Giovanni says slowly. _Is she angry about her midterms?_

“Professor!” Giovanni stiffens. “What do you think of Mister Cyrus?”

“Ehh?”

Leaf slaps her hand on her thigh. “Professor, I am _losing_ here! I need all the support I can get! What. Do. You. Think of Cyrus?”

Giovanni’s brain is still struggling to process the situation. “Eh… he’s a treasured friend and colleague?”

Leaf’s eyes are glinting in a way that sends gooseflesh up his neck. “Treasured? Friend?” It’s like she just ignored every other word. “Is he a _special_ friend?”

“Eh… maybe?”

Leaf shoots up to her feet, causing Giovanni to recoil. “Thank you, Professor! I won’t give up until I crush all those non-believers!” She bows vigorously and flies out of the room like a Hurricane.

Giovanni scrambles to regain his composure. He suddenly feels as if he’d been beaten by a mere ten year-old in a Pokemon battle.

* * *

“We’re being followed, Archie.”

“Yeah. I can see them, Maxie.”

“On my count, we turn and ambush them. One… two!”

The students disperse when the professors turn around and give chase. Thanks to Archie’s stamina, he manages to catch the ringleader.

“Ex… explain yourself!” Maxie pants. _Oh Groudon, when was the last time he ran?_

“You won’t understand!” May protests. “This is a matter of sink-or-swim!”

“You’ve been following Maxie and me around all week!” Archie crosses his arms, towering over the student like a Mega-Sharpedo. “Harassing your teachers can lead to suspension and a stain on your record! The _last_ thing I want to do is report you to the Dean of Students!”

May blanches. She shakes her head violently. “I’m not stalking you! This is field work if my team is to win Shipping Week!”

The Professors exchange a glance. “Shipping Week?” Maxie echoes.

“Ooops.” The color of May’s face is as pale as a Shedinja. Archie holds her in place with a menacing glare. “F-fine. It’s… it’s a student-led event where the team with the most evidence of their ship wins the OTP Award.”

“Old Tepee?” Archie looks at Maxie again. “What is that? A soup?”

May has suddenly gone very, very red. “Uh… It’s… It’s like…”

“Need I remind you that you are facing suspension, Miss May?” Maxie’s eyes gleam behind his glasses.

“It’s like your One True Pairing!” May gasps and buries her face in her hands. “If it wasn’t for those Absolutecontrol freaks, then we could’ve taken the prize home for Hardenshipping!”

There’s a lot for the professors to process. Maxie holds up his hands. “Wait. What is ‘Absolute shipping?’ What is ‘Harden shipping?’ What does this have to do with Archie and me?”

May nervously twirls a lock of hair with her finger. With great reluctance, she explains to the professors the basic fangirl/boy terminologies, the intense rivalry of Shipping Week, the fanart and fanfiction and propaganda elements… More than once Archie and Maxie look at each with shock, disgust, and general bewilderment. 

“Can I go now?” May cries, her cheeks spilling red to her whole face. Maxie is too stunned to respond, so he just waves her along.

“Hey, Maxie.” Archie refuses to look at him.

“Yes, Archie?” Maxie is also content to stare at the wall.

“I still don’t get it.”

“Huh. I thought I was the only one.”

* * *

The six roommates listen intently as Maxie finishes recounting his harrowing tale. No one speaks for a solid minute. Not even Ghetsis.

Then Lysandre clears his throat. “So… ‘Shipping Week’ is an attempt to rally support for fictional relationships between the faculty body?” He looks at the parties in question. “And ‘ACS’ is the term for Giovanni and Cyrus, while ‘Hardenshipping’ supports the relationship between Archie and Maxie? Whoever garners the most relevance in the end will be awarded the ‘Old Tepee’ achievement?” Lysandre stifles a snort. “This is so ridiculous that it’s hilarious.”

“Is this what young people do nowadays instead of contributing to society?” Ghetsis grumbles.

“I do not understand why students picture Giovanni and me in impractical situations,” Cyrus says, his expression troubled. “Their questions have made feel as if I’d ingested expired milk.”

“I still don’t know how the ‘Absolute’ thing started.” Giovanni sighs. He feels another headache threatening to pass by. “And don’t get me started on you two.” He glares at Archie and Maxie, who are just as content to not pour more fuel into the fire.

Lysandre shifts his legs. “So… what now?”

Maxie looks at him and crosses his arms. “Surprisingly enough, I find this little event to be… _intriguing_. I’ve never had this many students seek me out at once.”

Cyrus nods. “I agree. I was surprised when the students talked to me without being asked first.” Archie lays a sympathetic hand on Cyrus’s shoulder. The latter quickly brushes it off, looking generally confused.

Even Giovanni resigns himself to a smirk. Things have indeed gotten exciting. It’s been a while since something had left him stupefied like that. It reminds him of his younger days, where the only thing that mattered was the thrill of adventure.

As Giovanni watches his roommates bicker about their experiences with Shipping Week, he stumbles upon a revelation. It was the first time _any_ of them–including Ghetsis—had agreed on something and had acted as a team to pursue their mission. 

Maybe living together with these idiots isn’t so bad after all.

* * *

The students are visibly battered at the end of the week. All sides seem to have lost their vigor to continue the fight until they receive the surprising announcement that approved Shipping Week as a legitimate, university-wide event. Even more shocking, though, that the very professors that fell victim to such hormonal urges were the ones who endorsed the petition.


	2. A Very Maxie Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxie discovers that he and Cyrus share some things in common.

Maxie had set a tight deadline to complete grading all the weekly quizzes by tonight. In fact, he had planned out his entire day, down to the second where he’ll stop to nourish his body or use the bathroom.

Of course, he’d forgotten that Giovanni had other plans because it was _his_ house to begin with. Maxie returns to Giovanni’s condominium to find Archie running around with boxes full wire and equipment.

“What are you doing?” Maxie snaps to no one in particular.

Giovanni spreads his hands as if showcasing an antique sofa collection. “ _Signore_ Maxie. How nice of you to join us. I’ve decided to enlighten my colleagues with a state-of-the-art Karaoke Machine.”

“I’ve heard of Kanto Karaoke.” Lysandre’s head pokes out from the kitchen. “Out of all the regions, Kanto Karaoke holds no rivals.” To that, Giovanni smirks.

“I can’t believe you lackeys talked me into this,” Ghetsis grumbles as he attempts to detangle some wires. Lysandre hurries to help the man before he makes an even bigger mess.

Archie makes a face. “The Lettuce-Head was practically jumping when I invited him to sing,” he tells Maxie.

Maxie blinks. “And _why_ would you invite Ghetsis in the first place?”

“Because the more the merrier!” Archie bumps his friend’s shoulder. “I asked Cyrus, but he was adamant on staying in his room.”

“Now that’s not a bad idea,” Maxie huffs, putting away his shoes. The four other men proceed to set up the system – _three_ , because Giovanni merely sits back in his loveseat and barks directions. Maxie sighs again and heads to his room, shutting the door and reveling at this rare second of silence.

There is still a lot of grading to be done. Maxie would’ve stayed a bit longer in his office at the University, but it was getting very dark, and the darkness began to play with his mind.

Just as Maxie is about to settle into his working mindset, the walls tremble with a cry that shatters his blissful silence. Maxie scrambles for his glasses and peek outside.

Archie takes another deep breath and screams into the microphone. “I WANNA BE! THE VERY BEST!!”

“That is a child’s song!” Ghetsis roars, his own voice rising to match the song’s volume. He begins yelling at Giovani for even putting such a ridiculous soundtrack on the playlist.

“It is my house.” Giovanni’s voice is pleasantly even, but his veins throb like he’s about to snap. “I can do whatever I want, _Ghetsis.”_

Lysandre has become the unwilling negotiator ever since he set foot in this house. “Now, now, friends…. It’s just a song. I don’t think it’s that bad as you make it out to be, Monsieur Ghetsis. In fact, the tone is quite catchy.”

All chances of Maxie cutting into this argument is zero. Maxie curses under his breath and tries to, once again, return to work. The walls are trembling as if a Camerupt is dancing on the roof.

“Curses, Archie!” Maxie yells, but all that infernal noise drowns out his protests. Deciding that the others owe him for his misfortune, Maxie packs his stuff and borrows his floormates’ rooms. Giovanni’s and Lysandre’s rooms are too distracting to focus on anything. Archie’s room stinks like sweat. Maxie briskly walks past Ghetsis’s room without a second thought.

Maxie steps into Cyrus’s room and is shocked at how _blissfully quiet_ everything is. Serene, splendid _nothingness._ The only sounds are the curtains rustling in the breeze and the pitter-patter of typing keys.

Cyrus must’ve soundproofed his room.

Then Maxie notices Cyrus for the first time. The man is sitting cross-legged on the floor amidst papers and his computer. Even his Weaville is staring at Maxie as if he’d just wandered into the Distortion World.

Maxie finally finds his voice. “Oh. Pardon me, Cyrus. May I borrow your room to finish my work? They’re singing Karaoke out there.”

Cyrus hasn’t blinked. Maxie’s lips begin to hurt from smiling. Then his colleague simply turns away and goes back to typing.

“Er… So are you fine with me staying in your room, Cyrus?” Cyrus glares at Maxie, but he never explicitly tells him “no.” Maxie chuckles nervously and proceeds with caution for an empty spot on the floor. He busies himself with dumping out his stuff, trying to create some noise to distract him from Cyrus’s unnerving stare. 

The silence that follows is nerve-racking. Maxie’s neck hurts from scrunching. He dares lifts his eyes to see Cyrus still glued to his computer, one hand dancing across the keyboard while the other circles passages with red pen. _How efficient._ Maxie attains a grudging respect for his odd colleague.

Cyrus’s room is smaller than Maxie’s. The former’s room is threadbare with only the necessary furniture. He doesn’t even own lava lamps! Aside from Cyrus owning replicas of some mythical Sinnoh Pokemon, the man has also invested in a galaxy motif that makes Maxie feel as though he’s sitting in an actual observatory.

“You, er… like planets, Cyrus?” Maxie nods to the model of the Solar System on the desk. Cyrus just stares at him. Maxie coughs. “Erm… you’re missing everything except for the Sun, Mars, Saturn, and Jupiter.”

He cannot read Cyrus’s face. Maxie shoots for another weak smile and buries his head in his work. After Maxie hits a good milestone, he raises his head to find Cyrus’s dim eyes on him again.

Then in a low, quiet voice, Cyrus says, “Those are my favorite planetary bodies.”

Maxie blinks. “S-so… what’s your opinion on Pluto?”

“Pluto is not part of our Solar System, at least not anymore.” Despite his monotone, Cyrus is looking at Maxie with some vague curiosity.

“Oh. Nice.” Maxie suddenly finds his red pen to be the most fascinating thing in the universe.

“Pardon me, Maxie,” Cyrus says again after another lapse in silence. Maxie’s head snaps up. _Is Cyrus attempting to initiative conversation?_

“Y-yes?” Maxie tries to keep his voice as casual as possible.

Cyrus briefly glances away before continuing. “I am curious on your relationship with Archie.”

“Oh? Explain.”

“You two appear to be very close to be acquaintances.”

“Yes.” Maxie is mildly impressed. “We’re childhood friends.”

Cyrus’s brows rise. Maxie is surprised that Cyrus is surprised. “I see. So your affinity with Archie in the past manifests itself into the bonds you hold today.”

“Erm… I suppose.” Maxie frowns. Cyrus nods and returns to his work as if nothing had happened. Weaville purrs as he absently scratches it behind the crown.

Maxie stretches his arms. “Hey, Cyrus.”

Cyrus shifts to show that he’s listening.

“How about yourself? Do you have a childhood friend?” The moment that the sentence slips from Maxie’s lips, Cyrus hits the keyboard with a hollow _CLINK._ Weaville opens its eyes and peers into its owner’s face.

Judging from Cyrus’s silence, Maxie must’ve trespassed his boundaries. _Why_ is he so bad at making small talk? If Archie was here, he would’ve flapped his lips without noticing that something was wrong. Maxie starts to rectify his statement when Cyrus shifts.

“Yes.” His voice is low. Cyrus shifts his gaze to the starry sky, where the white moon had just begun to peek from the clouds. “I’ve known her since I was a child.”

Maxie picks his next words very, very carefully. “I guess we have something in common after all, Cyrus.” He gives his colleague a small smile.

Cyrus blinks. “I suppose so.” Despite his monotone, there’s no hint of the coldness from earlier.

* * *

“Are you almost finished grading?” Cyrus says.

“Quite. I actually got a lot of work done over the last hour. How about you?”

“I am making progress.”

Just then the walls begin to pulsate as if it had suddenly gained a human heart. Maxie yelps as the world jerks under his feet.

“Nothing is ever 100% soundproof,” Cyrus says flatly. He recalls Weaville and attempts to stand as Ghetsis’s gnarly warble blasts through the door.

Maxie scrambles for his glasses once again. “How can they even— Cyrus! What in Groudon’s name are you _doing_?! That’s extremely dangerous!” Cyrus had swung a leg over the window as if it’s a normal Monday night.

“I want to show you something, Maxie.” Cyrus never breaks monotone even as his body trembles with the bass. He nods his chin and disappears behind the wall. Maxie curses again, glances at the door, then follows Cyrus to the roof.

To Maxie’s surprise, Cyrus had constructed a little balcony outside the window. The landing is smaller than a patio but more spacious than a fire escape. Once Maxie sits down near a makeshift table, Cyrus shuts the window, plunging the mood into a splendid silence.

Maxie glimpses the topiary garden below their feet. Giovanni’s tastes are too indulgent and sophisticated for Maxie to embrace, even though the man knew how to make full use of every inch of land. The city lights sparkle in the distance. Out here, in Giovanni’s private residence, Maxie can actually see the nebula of stars sparkling like jewels in the sky.

“You can do your work here, if you want.” Cyrus is adjusting his telescope. “Often when it’s too noisy to concentrate, I go here for peace of mind.”

Maxie hums and spreads his papers. “I misjudged you, Cyrus,” he mutters after the two has settled into a comfortable calm.

Cyrus glances up from his journal, eyes wide. He analyzes Maxie’s statement, picking at his undertone and scrutinizing for any back-handed compliments. Finally, Cyrus’s attention returns to his work. 

“I see.” That’s all he says. Maxie shakes his head and laughs.

* * *

“Finished!” Maxie announces with a triumphant smirk. He stacks his papers in neat file, relishing the clicking sound they make once he hits them on the table.

“So am I.” Cyrus closes his computer. He sits back and tilts his head to the heavens. In the first time that Maxie had known him, Cyrus has never looked so relaxed.

Maxie clears his throat. “You’re not joining them for Karaoke?”

“No,” Cyrus snaps. He closes his eyes. “You?”

“I’d rather _not_ sing,” Maxie mutters.

Just then, a grating voice booms from the house, a voice so loud that it penetrates through glass. “MAXIEE! CYRUS! YOU TWO ARE MISSING OUT!”

“How can someone be so _deafening?”_ Cyrus growls, wincing from the noise.

“That’s just how Archie is,” Maxie says nonchalantly. He sighs and opens the window. “I’m going back in.”

Cyrus nods. Maxie climbs back into the room and turns back to see that his colleague had not budged from his spot. “Cyrus, you come too. I don’t want to see you sitting alone by yourself all the time.”

Cyrus tilts his head, brow furrowed. Nevertheless, he rises like a robot and follows Maxie into the foyer.

“Maxie! Cyrus!” Lysandre’s face breaks into a radiant grin as he welcomes them with an embrace. Cyrus quickly sidesteps out of range, leaving poor Maxie squeezed by Lysandre’s imposing muscles.

“How fortunate to have you two join us.” Giovanni raises his microphone like a glass of fine wine. “You’re just in time to see me conquer this megalomaniac.”

Ghetsis hisses and brings his mic down like a sword. “You may have won the battle, but the war is not yet over, _my heartless benefactor_.”

“Ghetsis is only behind Giovanni by one point,” Lysandre explains. “It’s amazing to see how he can hold himself against Giovanni, Archie, and myself.”

Maxie stares as Ghetsis scrolls down the playlist. Archie comes and swings an arm over his friend. “Maxie! You and me, Karaoke battle now! We’ll finally see if the sea or land is worthier!”

Maxie remembers how their _last_ battle went. He falters under Archie’s expectant, child-like grin. “Fine,” Maxie grumbles and marches to the front. He seizes the mic from Ghetsis.

“That’s _my_ winning streak on the line, _Maxwell,_ ” Ghetsis scowls, surrendering his weapon without any resistance.

“Don’t you dare look down on the great Maxie, Lettuce-Head.”

As Ghetsis fumes, Giovanni approaches Cyrus. “Cyrus, my friend. Take my mic. As someone living under my roof, I’m responsible for including you in every activity that I have planned.”

Cyrus reluctantly accepts the mic. “Thank you,” he mutters. Giovanni smirks and shows him to the battlefield.

Maxie locks eyes with Cyrus as if they’re facing off on the pinnacle of the highest mountain. “I hope you appreciate this honor, Cyrus. I, the great Maxie, will bury you by my own hand!”

Cyrus’s expression suddenly turns dead-serious. “Yes, Maxie,” he says, his voice colder than a critical, super-effective Blizzard. “I will show you the error of your ways.”

_The two of them sound like villains out to conquer the world._ Nevertheless, the other roommates push that unsettling thought aside and begin to cheer as the Pokemon Theme Song plays for the thirtieth time tonight. Maxie grabs the microphone and begins to pour his heart out.

A hush falls over the spectators.

“Oh my…” Lysandre whispers, his eyes very wide, his hand reaching for his ears.

“Why am I even surprised?” Ghetsis groans and shuts his eyes.

Then it’s Cyrus’s turn. He wields the microphone like a chain-weapon, his usually blank eyes now ablaze with emotion. “Pokemon. It’s you and me…”

Giovanni blinks for a second too long. “I think he’s tone-deaf.” Even his words don’t register in his ears. “He’s just reading the words aloud.”

_And I thought that only Maxie was incapable at Karaoke_. Archie grimaces, suddenly finding it very hard to look at his colleagues.

The “battle” between Cyrus and Maxie concludes in a tie (that surprises no one). Everyone is awestruck for a solid moment until Ghetsis explodes at Maxie for ruining his winning streak.

“Cyrus,” Maxie says as Lysandre and Archie attempt to calm Ghetsis down while Giovanni watches in disbelief. He holds out his hand. Cyrus stares at it with eyebrows slanted like Mt. Coronet. “It was a splendid effort.”

Very, very slowly, Cyrus accepts Maxie’s hand. The corners of Cyrus’s lips tug, and he chuckles – a faint, brittle sound.

“Same to you, Maxie. Although, I think we should leave Karaoke to the professionals.”

“Yes, you’re definitely right.” Maxie smirks. “There’s another thing we can agree on.”


	3. How it All Began

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giovanni remembers when his five roommates first moved in. Contains mild language.

There was a sweeter, much innocent time when Giovanni had the condominium to himself. Granted, he’s still the owner, then and now. Only Persian was acceptable company. No one to misplace his stuff. No one to take up his precious restroom time.

“Archie! Are you out of your mind? You’re adding too much water!”

Maxie’s voice reverberates unpleasantly in his eardrums. Giovanni sighs as his pleasant monologue is interrupted by yet another meaningless argument. _Why is he even surprised anymore?_

“I got this, Maxie! Now get out! Kiss your dirt or something. It’s my turn to cook!”

“Archie, all you’ve got in that waterlogged brain of yours is seaweed! Now step aside and let the great Maxie salvage this disaster!”

Something clangs on the floor. Some liquid hits the linoleum.

“Archie…! Maxie…!!” Giovanni growls from his chair. “I better not see a mess, or you _both_ will be sleeping in the streets tonight!” Giovanni clicks his teeth and returns to tallying his assets.

Of course, those two idiots let his threats pass through their daft ears.

“It’s not even your house, Archie! Clean this up right now!”

“Nuh-uh! It’s not my mess either! I’m just minding my own business!”

Something angry slithers behind Giovanni and into the kitchen. “Do you impertinent brats not know the meaning of ‘inside voice?!’”

_Ugh. Ghetsis._

“Maxie and I know damn well what that is. You’re not being a very good example, hypocritical Lettuce-Head!”

“H-hypocrite? You dare insult me with cheap words, Archibald! _I am perfect!”_

"W-wait! Archie, Ghetsis, stop! You’ll knock over the—”

Giovanni would’ve ignored their squabble if _something_ didn’t shatter and _something_ didn’t smell like burning oil.

“You three are _raring_ to sleep with the Magikarp today, eh?!” Giovanni snarls. He attempts to stand up, but the sudden flash of anger skyrockets his blood pressure to the point that the world begins to tilt. Seething, Giovanni sinks back into his seat and watches as Lysandre barrels into the kitchen with a bucket of water.

_SPLISH!_ That blissful sound is enough to quell his thundering heartbeat…but there is no such thing as true bliss in this household.

“Lion-man, you fool! Water alone isn’t enough to quench these flames!”

“Oi… I’ll be back with more!”

“No, you idiot! Get baking soda! Get – NO, ARCHIE! THAT’S FLOUR! THAT’S NOT BAKING SODA! STOP!!”

“AIM FOR THE FIRE, NOT MY HAIR, YOU INSOLENT PEST!”

“I-I apologize, Monsieur Lettuce, but your hair was catching fire.”

_Just_ why _is Ghetsis here again?_

A calm, cold voice cuts through the din. “Stand aside.” Giovanni counts his lucky Jirachi as Cyrus zooms to the kitchen with the fire extinguisher. There’s a pleasant sound of hissing vapor against flames. The burning smell lessens. Then, there’s a collective hush as everyone silently thanks Cyrus for coming to the rescue.

But remember kids, there’s no such thing as silence in Giovanni’s household.

“CYRUS, you freak without a human heart! I was your target all along, hmmph?! This stuff won’t come out easily!”

A silence. “Oh. I am sorry. My mistake. My apologies.” Giovanni snickers to himself at the thought of Cyrus’s dead monotone not matching the murderous ire in his eyes at all. “I am truly sorry for this unspeakable tragedy.”

“H-hey, Cyrus. Lay off the death glare, please? Buddy? Maxie, help me out here!”

“M-Monsieur Cyrus… you are scaring me.” 

“Please allow me to atone for my misgivings… Lettuce-Head.” The fire extinguisher squeals like a rampaging Bouffant. Ghetsis roars. Archie babbles nonsense to Maxie. Lysandre attempts to calm everyone and fails miserably.

Giovanni doesn’t even bother anymore. He drags himself to his room, slams the door, and collapses on his bed.

_Why the hell did he let these idiots into his private residence in the first place?_

_\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

“What did you say?” It didn’t matter that she’d repeated the same thing three times already. His brain simply refused to register her words.

“You, Giovanni, will be sharing your private residence,” the Headmaster growled, her sharp fingers piercing into the armrest.

Giovanni mentally slapped himself to regain his composure. “Madame Headmaster, I have fared well enough on my own. I believe that companions are an unnecessary expenditure—”

“Fear not. I have already picked out your roommates.”

Giovanni’s jaw dropped. He felt the veins pushing through his skin. “You’ve planned everything, eh?” _Manipulative scum._ He left that unsaid.

The Headmaster shifted in the shadows. While he couldn’t see her face, he saw the glistening white of teeth, the same leer an Arbok would show to a cornered prey. “Giovanni, while you are no doubt an excellent… _associate_ … I… Hm. Well, to be frank, your people skills suck.”

“E-excuse me?”

Madame Headmaster chuckled. Giovanni felt his spine retracting. “You are next in the line of my succession. However, you lack the essential traits of a leader.”

Giovanni struggled to keep his temper in check. Consequently, it would help his blood pressure as well. “Me? Lack the skills of being a leader? _Ludicrous!_ I command legions of goons under my beck and call!”

A growl escaped from the shadowed throne. Giovanni shut his trap. “Yes… While I’m aware of your… _second occupation,_ I will not waver in my choice. You, Giovanni, lack the simple empathy of a leader. Ruling by fear is good, yes, don’t get me wrong… but a leader must also communicate to his subordinates _amicably._ ”

_Coming from you, this is damn ironic._ Giovanni also left this unsaid, along with many other unsavory comments in his head.

“You _will_ live with your assigned roommates. I’ve already made up my mind.”

Giovanni shot for it anyways. He still had some pride left to sacrifice. “And what if I said no?”

Madame chuckled, a low, dangerous laugh that felt as if a Gengar had crept up and licked his spine. “Then I’ll confiscate everything you have.” He heard the sound of lips being licked. “Evidence is everything, _brat._ And if I can’t find it, it’s much easier to create it myself.”

* * *

After his session of blackmail by the Headmaster, Giovanni paced in his foyer for the millionth time, cursing her name and his own stupid weakness. He’d already cleared out his spare rooms before he slapped himself back to reality.

“Just laugh while you can… I’ll usurp that throne from you and cast you off into the heart of the Viridian Forest…”

The Headmaster had given him a list containing names, a short blurb, and a portrait of each roommate. _Potential_ roommate. She’d assure him that her independent research team had searched even the darkest archives, and that these five men remind her of Giovanni. In other words, she brought him friends so he can “experiment” on his terrible leadership skills. He’d glared at the paper so many times that he still saw it when he closed his eyes. 

He came to one conclusion: they all looked like assholes.

Someone knocked on the door. Giovanni kissed his single life goodbye and robotically peeked his head out the doorway.

“Greetings. I am Maxie.” Giovanni felt his eyelids droop before the man even finished his sentence.

His friend smacked his shoulders. “The name’s Archie!” _Note to self:_ outlaw body odor and loud voices as a crime.

_What did Madame see in this nerd and meat-head? How in tarnation did these two remind her of Giovanni?!_

The one called Maxie raised a curved eyebrow. “Is this the residence of a Mister Giovanni?”

“No,” Giovanni snapped and slammed the door in their faces. He almost mistook the adrenaline for his blood pressure, if not for the fact that he started giggling like a child. He felt tremendously proud of himself. _In your face, Madame Headmaster, you old hag!_ He’s patting himself on the back when he heard Maxie’s voice on the other side.

“I’m certain that it’s him, Archie. I’ll call the Headmaster just in case.”

Giovanni flung the door. The two men jumped. “Yes! It is I, Giovanni! Come in!! Gentlemen, by the _love of Mew come in_!”

Maxie and Archie never took their eyes off the flushed Giovanni as they entered his house and dragged their damn briefcases behind them.

* * *

_Knock. Knock._ Giovanni barely touched the door when something and soft and moist grazed his cheek. Giovanni screamed and drew his gun.

“I am sorry!” The giant bearded man held up his hands, eyes wide at the sight of the firearm. Giovanni spotted the absurd amount of luggage behind the man’s back. “Would you have preferred a handshake instead?”

“No!” Giovanni whipped out his handkerchief and scrubbed his face until he almost peeled off his skin. He quickly pocketed the weapon. “You here to move in, or what?”

The man’s face brightened like a blossoming sunflower. “Oh! Then you must be Monsieur Giovanni!” The Kalosian accent grated on Giovanni’s nerves. “I am Lysandre.” Lysandre placed a hand on his large chest and bowed. “I hope that we can become good friends.”

Giovanni muttered something complacent as he stepped aside for the ridiculously tall man with hair like a Pyroar’s mane. Lysandre’s oversized suitcases trailed behind the him as if a damn train had entered Giovanni’s home.

* * *

Giovanni heard the voices before the knock.

“Do you want me to help you move in, Dad?”

“No! For the last time, no! I don’t need your help!”

Giovanni decided to keep the door locked until something that sounded like a _sword_ pounded onto his precious, custom-made mahogany frame.

“What the hell?” Giovanni spat into the chest of the man with the strange monocle and unruly hair that reminded him of a root vegetable.

The two sized each other up for a second. “This puny pipsqueak is Giovanni?” the vegetable-man rumbled. Giovanni decided right then and there that he hated this man with a passion. He didn’t need to know any backstory to arbitrarily hate someone.

_Madame Headmaster must be laughing her head off, that witch…_

“What if I am?” Giovanni puffed his chest in an attempt to protect his ego, despite him already having to look _up_ to match that man’s gaze.

“Dad!” Another head poked into the doorway: a younger version of this walking tree, although with less wrinkles and much less angry. “I finished unloading your stuff. Do you have your cane?”

“Bug off, brat!”

“Okay, Dad. Have fun! I’ll drop by sometimes!” The younger man waved to the older men. As he turned away, his long, curly hair caught the fluorescent line and glinted like a fresh leaf. No one spoke for a while. That’s fine, because Giovanni needed no words to assert his dominance as boss of this household.

“Ghetsis Harmonia,” the tree growled, shoving Giovanni aside, limping as he yanked his luggage all over the recently waxed floor.

* * *

Giovanni couldn’t believe that it was already nightfall since these assholes invaded his life. He still couldn’t believe that, not even a day ago, he was living in blissful solitude. _Damn._ Maybe those pricks were right when they said that Giovanni took stuff for granted. All the money in the world couldn’t buy back his freedom.

All the assholes had already claimed their rooms except for the broom closet (that fitted Giovanni’s definition of “small”). Giovanni had to sacrifice his precious real estate just to accommodate their free-loading asses. _Damn. Dammit!_

“Monsieur Giovanni.” Oh. What was his name again? Lysa-something.

“You done packing?” Giovanni muttered.

“Not yet. I just wanted to thank you again for allowing me to stay.” Lysahandre twirled a graceful finger in the air. “You have excellent taste for décor. Is that baroque?”

Giovanni, despite his bubbling irritation, smirked. “Lysadandy. You’re actually an asshole with class.”

While Lysaguzma gave Giovanni a quizzical stare, Maxie and Archie filed into the room. It ticked Giovanni off, seeing how they’re inseparable like stupid children going to the restroom together. Maxie looked at Giovanni, and the latter entertained himself at the thought of Maxie’s glasses mysteriously disappearing overnight.

“I assumed there would be six of us,” Maxie said. 

As if on cue, Ghetsis limped into the room. The idiotic duo yelped. “Good riddance of the other one then,” the scowling man said.

“His hair looks like a head of lettuce. Literally,” Giovanni heard Archie whisper to Maxie.

Lysaplumeria put his hands on his hips. “I agree. What if this last person is lost? That wouldn’t be beautiful at all.”

Giovanni merely shrugged and tore the paper Madame had given him, relishing in the fact that a tree had given its life in vain. He smirked again. “Oh well. He can sleep with the Magikarps tonight.”

Of course, the universe loved to spite him because someone knocked at that exact moment. Everyone watched with bated breath as Giovanni stormed over and flung the door open.

“Hello.” A flat, impassive voice resonated from a layer of snow-crusted clothing. Giovanni met the man’s eyes, eyes so cold and empty that they rendered Giovanni’s blood pressure nonexistent. He brought the blizzard with him into Giovanni’s well-heated house. “My name is Cyrus. Is this Mister Giovanni’s residence?”

“No.” Giovanni slammed the door and dusted his hands from a job well done. That freak’s presence was enough the chill the room by 10 degrees. Another asshole avoided.

Suddenly Archie’s in his face. Giovanni yelped and hit his back on the door. He forgot about his gun at the moment. “What was _that_ for, Giovanni, ya jerk?”

“Get out of my face, or I’ll shoot you.”

Maxie sprung up too. “Giovanni, that man must’ve been wandering around lost, because your stupid place is in the middle of a stupid _forest_! At least be a decent human being and let him in!”

_Curses, when did it get so hot in here?_

“I still can’t believe you slammed the door in his face,” Ghetsis murmured, unsure if he should be impressed, amused, or disgusted. “Let the cold finish him off so we don’t have to do anything.”

Even the classy Lysalopod was frowning. “I am… disappointed in you, Giovanni. That was… terribly _ugly._ ”

Why did these assholes know exactly where to push his buttons? Giovanni made sure everyone heard his discomfort before proceeding to reopen the door.

There was no one outside.

“It was a ghost!” Archie gasped, earning him a smack on the head by Maxie. Giovanni was secretly grateful that Archie had the same thought but embarrassed himself first. Sighing, Giovanni peered into the distance and spotted a flash of white.

“GO!” The other men said in union. Someone kicked Giovanni out into the night. How dare they ruin his custom suit? He’ll make sure these fools experience a world of pain someday…

Giovanni hurried to catch the snowman before he slipped from sight. “Wait, Cyrus.”

Cyrus turned. His blank expression never faltered. “Oh. It’s you. Once again, I apologize for the inconvenience.” He plucked a frozen note from his pocket. “If you don’t mind, can you point me to the right address?”

“It’s mine. I am Giovanni. You had the right place.”

Cyrus’s brows furrowed. “Then why did you lie?”

There’s something oddly uncomfortable about the way the he was staring at Giovanni, almost as if Cyrus was peering into the darkest depths of his heart. Giovanni focused on the snowman’s ears as he replied, “Ah. Yes! Yes, I _did_ do that! Hahaha! I was only messing with you, friend!”

A dark shadow settled on Cyrus’s face. Giovanni instinctively stepped back. “I see. Of course. I should’ve known that it was always the case.” His monotone only unnerved Giovanni even more, as it contrasted the growing storm in those frosty eyes. Cyrus hitched his briefcase. “Pardon me.”

Giovanni quickly stepped aside. “E-erm, Cyrus! Let me carry your luggage for you. That’s all you brought? I have hot water…”

Cyrus shot Giovanni a glare, and the latter immediately bit his tongue. “I am fine.” And then Cyrus marched into Giovanni’s house without another word.

Giovanni smacked his head against the wall and cursed his pride.

* * *

Giovanni would’ve been fine leaving these assholes alone and not making eye contact for the rest of the night when Archie summoned everyone for an emergency meeting: Icebreakers. Giovanni was about to hide in his room when he remembered his vintage furniture… his silk curtains… his exotic carpets… his hidden cash reserves—

_Why was he hiding in his own home, dammit!_

“Welcome, everyone!” Archie pumped his fists into the air. The majority of the room didn’t share his sentiment. “I thought we should properly introduce ourselves since we’ll be seeing each other for every waking moment from now on.”

_Oh in Mew’s sweet name, why did he have to say “every waking moment?”_

Archie threw his hands at Giovanni, unaffected by the latter’s murderous glare. “First, our kind host that graciously allowed us to move in, rent-free!”

Giovanni’s face turned black. _Rent-free?! Rent-free?!!! What the hell is Madame thinking?_

But right now he had an image (or what’s left of it) to protect. Giovanni steeled his anger and cranked out a stiff, professional smile. “Yessss… thank you, Archie. I am Giovanni, the owner of this fine establishment.”

“Department, region you’re from, and favorite food.”

Giovanni’s smile fell. “What?”

“Come on,” Maxie groaned. “We’re all professors here. Just do it. They make us do these stupid Icebreakers at mandatory trainings every time.”

“F-fine. I teach in the International Law and Business Departments.” That drew some awes, as expected. “I hail from Kanto. And my favorite food… just needs to be properly cooked, for Mew’s sake.”

“My turn! The name’s Archie!” Archie planted a foot on Giovanni’s ivory table, much to his chagrin. “Hoenn-born, Hoenn-bred. My favorite food’s anything with soup in them.” His obnoxious friend cleared his throat. “Oh yeah. I teach Marine Biology, and I’m also on the faculty of the Environmental Institute for Sustainability.”

The man with those absurd glasses huffed. “I am Maxie. Also from Hoenn.” Archie swung a giant arm around his friend, who sighed and rolled it off. “I teach in Geology, and I am also part of the Institute for Sustainability. In terms of food… I’m not a big fan of soup. I prefer dry foods myself.”

“Jerky?” Giovanni grunted.

Maxie shrugged. “Perhaps.”

Then they all looked at the quietest one in the table, who uttered a faint sigh before speaking.

“My name is Cyrus. I am from the Sinnoh region.” Giovanni was suddenly greeted with a mental image of Cyrus trudging through knee-high snow, dressed like a croissant, lugging his lone briefcase as hail assaulted his body. It almost made Giovanni felt like an asshole. Almost. Then everyone aside from the man speaking shot Giovanni a dirty glare that screamed “Yup, you’re definitely an asshole.”

Cyrus continued, “I teach across the Math, Engineering, and Physics Departments. For food… I’d prefer something warm.”

Lysandre peered at Cyrus with concern. “At least tell me that you’re taking care of yourself?” He’s noting the dark circles in Cyrus’s pale face.

“I have enough sleep to function.” And that’s that.

Ghetsis slammed his hand on the table. Giovanni felt his heart break just a little. “Listen up, misfits! I’m only going to say this once. My name is Ghetsis Harmonia. I teach in Humanities, primarily the History Department. I hail from glorious Unova, and I prefer vegetables over empty calories.” He ended his speech by bringing down his fist.

“Lettuce-Head,” Archie whispered to Maxie, and both of them snicker.

“Thank you, Ghetsis,” Lysaphyrion said nonchalantly. He cleared his throat and smoothed his Pyroar mane of a hair. “Bonjour, gentlemen. I am Lysandre.” _Oh._ “I come from the beautiful region that is Kalos. I teach Public Policy and dabble in Communications. I have an open mind to all sorts of foods, but I’d prefer them to be beautiful foods.”

_Beautiful foods?_

“Great.” Giovanni clapped his hands. “Now that we’re all good friends and whatnot—”

Archie just had to interrupt. “Wait! How old are y’all? I’m curious.”

“Archie…” Giovanni felt his blood pressure rising, but the meat-head had launched into a fiery passage of his life. He made sure to get _everyone’s_ age, including the wary Giovanni’s.

Everyone stared as Archie finished counting his fingers. He blanches. Archie stared at Giovanni like the man had just been swallowed by a Primal Kyogre.

“What?” Giovanni snapped.

“Giovanni,” Archie whispered dramatically. “You’re the oldest one here.” Giovanni blinked. The others had varying expressions of shock (except for Cyrus, who looked vaguely amused).

Giovanni struggled to find his voice. “N-no, Archie. You must be mistaken. I mean… look at _Ghetsis_..! Ghetsis is obviously the oldest one here!”

“Hmm. Nope.” Ghetsis flashed Giovanni a smirk that made blood pound in his ears. “Numbers don’t lie, old man.”

While Giovanni slowly accepted cold reality, Maxie tilted his head to Cyrus. “And that makes Cyrus here the youngest. Strange. You don’t look your age.”

“Age is irrelevant to merit,” Cyrus said flatly. That lifted Giovanni’s spirits. At least a little.

Lysandre threw back his mane and laughed heartily. “Oh, you fellows are hilarious! Beautiful! I am looking forward to living with all of you!”

Woah. _Woah, woah._ Giovanni shook his head. “Wait. I never agreed—”

“WOOO! Things are about to get LIT!” Archie threw his hands in the air.

“Wait. Stop! I never said—”

“Ack! My glasses! Archie, you fish-brain…”

“Get your paws on my cane!!”

Giovanni had a headache the rest of the night and had to cancel class the next day.

* * *

“Giovanni.”

Cyrus’s monotone shakes Giovanni from his slumber. He raises his head and winces at the notch in his neck. “What?”

“Dinner is ready.” Cyrus’s voice never changes, but he looks damn proud of himself. “The kitchen is also cleaned. Everyone is waiting for you.”

Giovanni massages his sore muscles and heads to the kitchen table. He takes a seat beside Cyrus, who silently hands him a napkin.

Archie and Maxie emerge from the stove. “So! Maxie and I have decided to combine our ingenuity to create… _Wait for iiiit!_ Land and Sea’s Chicken Tempura Udon!”

Maxie taps his glasses with a smug look on his face. “Tremble at the great Maxie’s latest innovation!”

Ghetsis stumbles out of the bathroom, a giant towel wrapped around his giant head of hair. “Someday, I’ll make you pay, Cyrus. Someday, but not today.” Surprisingly, he doesn’t sound angry. Rather, he sounds… playful. Giovanni shivers from a chill unseen.

Cyrus simply scoffs.

Lysandre appears to help set plates and pours everyone a generous amount of Kalosian wine. Ghetsis devours his heartily. “Monsieur Lettuce, the food isn’t out yet,” Lysandre sighs but nevertheless refills the glass.

Cyrus slides his wine to Giovanni, who regards him suspiciously. “I don’t drink,” Cyrus says and places a bottle of Fresh Water on the table.

The food is delicious, but Giovanni will never admit it. His stomach growls at the aroma of friend meat and earthy broth. Once everyone’s settled in, the talking begins. Archie erupts into boisterous laughter as he recounts how his computer malfunctioned during lecture, and instead of ending class early, he made his students watch a video about dancing Purrloins. Maxie interjects with his own story of the day as well. Lysandre shares some of the scandalous tales he’d heard at the Department Lounge. Ghetsis is tipsy from the wine, but he’s still coherent enough to launch into a bitter tirade about the arbitrary differences between a researcher and a lecturer. Cyrus simply observes the conversation in silence as he eats. 

“How about you, Gio?” Under normal circumstances, Giovanni would’ve thrown the fool who dared massacred his name into a pool of Gyrodoses. Maybe he’s growing soft. **Not old,** no… he’s positively _glowing_ with health for a man his age.

“Funny you should ask,” Giovanni chuckles and tells his story. Everyone is looking at him. The food is good. The house is bright… the house is warm.

In fact, the house is much warmer than when he used to live alone. This warmth transcends as a sensory detail… it resonates deep within his visceral organs. It’s a buttery, pleasant feeling that even the most expensive heating unit could never provide.

All the money in the world can’t revert time. But maybe… maybe he’d found something so precious that even cold, hard cash can’t buy.


	4. The Park Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archie persuades his colleagues to go to the Treasure Town Theme Park. Ghetsis throws a rock. Giovanni, Maxie, and Lysandre eat questionable foods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Quick terminology regarding some items from PMD Explorers of Time/Sky.
> 
> Short blurbs can be found on Bulbapedia. There's also Youtube Videos on the items' effects.
> 
> Reviver/Reviser Seed: Instead of fully Reviving a fainted Pokemon, the Reviser Seed first revives the Pokemon, then causes the user to faint from laughter.
> 
> Grimy Food: Basically food that's gone bad. Might cause status elements if eaten.
> 
> Geo Pebble/Gone Pebble: After it's thrown, the Gone Pebble incites a precious memory from the user and makes them tear up.

Finals were finally over! For both students and faculty, the end of Spring Quarter meant a week without seeing the other. Grading was done and inputted, and only a handful of students even cared to check that their grades were reflective of their work.

For Professor Giovanni, Spring Break meant seven blissful days of staying in his private residence and keeping his blood pressure in check. Maxie planned to reconstruct his clay model of Mt. Chimney, complete with working air vents and real magma. Ghetsis had checked out a variety of tomes from the University Archives. Cyrus was content to fiddle with this machines. Lysandre wished to hone his culinary tongue by experimenting with different regional cooking styles.

But Archie had other ideas.

“Listen up, scamps!” he exclaims one day. “We’re going to the Theme Park!”

Giovanni barely glances from his checkbook. “What are you, ten?”

“Why spend money in a smelly, overcrowded, failing establishment with rusting machines?” Ghetsis huffs as he polishes his monocle.

Maxie removes his glasses and rubs his temples. “Why the sudden outburst, Archie?”

“They have this wicked new attraction!” Archie has a child’s mirth akin to the joy of scamming a Boss with a Shiny Amulet.

“I’ve been there recently.” Lysandre crosses his arms. “And I doubt that there’s anything hardly worthwhile to visit.”

Archie scowls. “Y’all a bunch of old farts.” He whirls around to Cyrus, who responds with a frown. “How about you, Cyrus? You and me, having the time of our lives?”

“No, thank you,” Cyrus replies in his usual monotone. “I’d rather do something productive with my time.” Giovanni snickers. Archie looks rather hurt.

“I don’t enjoy crowded places,” Cyrus quickly adds without lifting his gaze. “The closest public library has an impressive collection about marine life, if you’re interested in that, Archie.”

Archie’s face immediately brightens. “Haha! That’s so like you, Cyrus! But why spend Spring Break in the library? Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“What could possibly be fun about those death rides?” Maxie groans.

“They’re called ‘roller coasters,’ nerd.” Then a Purrloin-like smirk stretches on Archie’s lips. “There’s this new ride called Sharpedo Bluff that I want to check out. I heard that it’s… _beautiful._ ”

Lysandre’s ears perk up. “Beautiful?”

“Yeah. I also heard that the ride showcases impressive landmasses of the Pokemon World.”

Maxie purses his lips. He fails to look disinterested.

Archie continues in a saccharine-sweet purr. “There will also be relics and ruins.”

Ghetsis raises a heavy brow.

“And the concept of space and time will be involved! Somehow!”

Cyrus stops fiddling with his screwdriver.

Giovanni chuckles. “Nice try, Archie. But sweet words won’t convince—”

“Do you _really_ want to be all alone during Spring Break, Giovanni?” Archie is shaking his head, as if Giovanni’s life is too pathetic to even acknowledge. “Life is like an ocean. You think the same waves will come back the next day, but it’s an entirely new batch of monsters.”

Giovanni blinks. “What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

“Go with us!” Archie insists, a slight flush on his dark skin. “We’re colleagues! We’re friends! We’re like a small family! And… and family don’t leave each other behind, right?”

Everyone is staring at Giovanni.

“The more the merrier,” Lysandre says dismissively. Maxie echoes a similar sentiment. Ghetsis just rolls his neck and scoffs. Cyrus is unreadable as ever.

“Fine,” Giovanni grumbles after an awkward silence. “I guess it’s my responsibility to be a decent host to my picky visitors.” He rummages for his keys. “Just don’t make a mess in my car.”

* * *

“Look at how smooth this baby runs!” Archie laughs as Giovanni’s sedan rolls across the forest path.

“It’s a custom-made luxury vehicle,” Giovanni says with a smirk. He keeps one hand on the leather wheel while the other hangs in the breeze. He cackles as the tires glide effortlessly off the dirt and onto pavement.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” Ghetsis snaps from his side. Giovanni stops laughing and shoots him a glare. _Why is Ghetsis sitting in the front again?_

Meanwhile, the back of the car is an absolute disaster. “Archie, please move your elbow.”

“Oops. Sorry, Cyrus, buddy!”

Maxie sighs. “Archie, you’re crushing him. Here. There’s more space next to me.”

Lysandre peeks his Pyroar-mane of a head on the seat. Giovanni had barred him from sitting in the front because he would block the mirrors. “Monsieur Cyrus, there’s a lot of space back here.”

“No one is moving anywhere until I stop this car.” Giovanni kicks the engine into gear. The city rolls by until he spots a giant spire in the distance.

“That’s Treasure Town Theme Park,” Ghetsis says and checks the map again. The Lettuce-Head might have terrible social manners, but he can sure as hell dissect a map. Giovanni would never admit that out loud, though. “Looks like a rainbow threw up there.”

Giovanni eases the sedan into the crowded parking lot. Upon seeing his frustration, Ghetsis clears his throat and flashes a blue placard in Giovanni’s face.

“Priority. Parking,” the Lettuce-Head mouths. Giovanni has the sudden urge to slug Ghetsis across the face and dump his broken body into a Beedril’s nest.

But Giovanni has an image to maintain. Also, he would never, ever camp for a parking space. He snatches the placard and tries to tune out Ghetsis’s smug cackling.

The receptionist gawks at the sight of the six men. “Are you all friends?” she squeaks when Giovanni attempts to pay for his ticket.

“Hell no,” Giovanni snaps.

* * *

The park is hot. The park is crowded. Giovanni spots some students from the University. Fortunately, they pretend not to notice him and his posse.

“This looks like something that brat would like,” Ghetsis mutters to no one in particular. The men are standing in the center of the park – an area known as “Treasure Town.” Quaint, catchy music surround the square, accompanied with rustic Pokemon-themed buildings like a Duskull Bank and a Kecleon Gift Shop. A giant Wigglytuff waddles around the park, and no one is quite sure if it’s a real Pokemon or a human inside a mascot suit.

Archie passes out the maps. “All right. So we can split up and explore. Meet back here when the sun comes down so we can all ride Sharpedo Bluff.”

“Do we have to?” Giovanni groans.

“Yes!” Archie shoots him an exasperated look. “It’s a really special ride, complete with all the 4-Ds and 5-Ds! We need to also have at least one photo of us together!”

Lysandre nods his head slowly. “Yes, yes. What a beautiful idea.”

“Ugh. What a nuisance.” Ghetsis taps his cane impatiently.

Maxie calmly fidgets with his glasses. “Speaking of which, Archie, you just tell me when you’re done…”

“You’re coming with me, nerd!” Archie swings a strong arm over Maxie’s shoulder. “I can’t wait to show you the new rides!”

“E-erm. N-no, thank you.” But Archie had dragged the sputtering Maxie along the road leading to Beach Cave.

Lysandre turns to the group. “Gentlmen. I shall bid adieu as well. I would like to capture the beauty of this Pokemon world.” Cyrus nods. The Lion-made bows majestically and ambles down the street marked “Wigglytuff’s Guild.”

Then Cyrus turns to the remaining two. “I will also take my leave.” He gives them a terse nod and heads down the Crossroads.

Giovanni and Ghetsis glare at each other and take their separate ways.

* * *

“Maxie! Look! Apple Woods Caterpie Tunnel!”

Maxie blearily looks up from his hands. “I… I think I’ll just sit down…”

Archie puts his fists on his hips. “What’s the point of going to a theme park if you’re just going to sit on your ass?”

“I don’t like rides, Archie,” Maxie hisses. His stomach heaves unpleasantly again, and it takes all his willpower to hold in his breakfast. Maxie moans and puts his forehead against the cool metal table.

“Don’t be such a wimp, Maxie. We only went on the Cascoon Evolution. There wasn’t even a drop!”

Maxie shifts his head to glare at this friend. “I thought there was an earthquake, you kelp-ridden idiot.”

Archie awkwardly scratches his beard. “So I forgot there was a little shaking. You still didn’t have to yell ‘stop, drop, and roll’ at the top of your lungs.”

* * *

Lysandre cannot believe his eyes. _Well, he’d seen better, of course._ His own goods are much more innovative than these commonplace tropes.

But still, this Pokemon park has its charms.

Wigglytuff’s Guild features an immersive tour of an exploration guild built onto the side of a cave, complete with a job bulletin board, a mess hall, and the Guildmaster’s Chamber. It’s a bit too pink for his tastes, but he makes sure to note everything down so he can experiment with their designs back at the lab.

Of course, that task includes taking photos. Fortunately, Lysandre had brought his patent-pending camera-holder stick. Not only is it an extension of his arm, but he doesn’t need to use his hands to take the picture.

The only ugly things are the lines.

Of course, his students recognize him. Even his past students still remember his face. _Who wouldn’t?_ he muses to himself. Even the parents and older folks recognize his face from the news.

_What’s the point of influence if you don’t use it, right?_

* * *

Cyrus never liked crowds. He knows how to compose himself in social situations, but he’d prefer to _not_ be the one to initiate social contact.

Archie mentioned something about space and time. Cyrus would just have to find something to do until then. He drifts in and out of gift store to emerge empty-handed. Everything is needlessly expensive or too impractical to use. He already lost his appetite after witnessing a giant stick of butter crammed into a tub of oil.

He should’ve brought a book. What do you even _do_ at a park?

People just brush past him. Even his students look straight ahead, even though he knows they’re aware. It doesn’t matter much in the end, though. He can care less what people say about him.

Cyrus settles on waiting out the day in the corner of an odd little café.

* * *

Ghetsis is already sick of the atmosphere. Just because he has a cane doesn’t mean that those underpaid brats should be bothering him every step of the way! He’s not as old as that mafia-looking knucklehead Giovanni! The cane is just for support. He can walk perfectly fine on his own, thank you!

Ghetsis finds an empty bench and sits. All the gift store sold were jokes: pathetic, desperate attempts at making money. For example, who could be stupid enough to buy seeds? What is this “Reviser Seed” for 300 Poke? Ghetsis could catch a wild Sunkern for free!

And a pebble! Who would buy a… a “Gone Pebble” for 800 Poke?

Well… Ghetsis bought it **ONLY** so he could throw it at Giovanni when he has the chance. He can’t _stand_ that standoffish brute. Why, he won’t be surprised if Giovanni turns out to be a mafia boss in the guise of a professor.

While Ghetsis muses on ways to make Giovanni’s blood pressure skyrocket, the Gone Pebble accidentally slips from his grasp. Ghetsis huffs and bends to pick it up… until a blast of cold air slams into his back despite the weather being dry and balmy.

The feeling is… strange. It’s not a bad thing, though. Rather… it makes his stomach churn and his brain sluggishly warm. _What in the name of Cofagrigus’s past life is happening to him?_

Then Ghetsis lifts his head to the playground and sees _him_.

“Wake up, Dad!” the kid says. “Can we play Darmanitan Fighter again?”

Ghetsis freezes. An unearthly force presses on his limbs. A person emerges from Ghetsis’s line of sight… as if his own soul has detached from his body. The man walks to the child and hoists the brat on his shoulders.

“Wee!” the child screams. “Dad, faster! _Faster!!”_

“You’re going to pull off my hair, N!” Oh. _Is that how_ he _used to look like?_ Before the accident. Back when that brat was still…

_Was still…_

Ghetsis feels something hot rolling down his cheek. Then the hallucination dies, and the father and son vanish into the sizzling heat. Now there’s just a bunch of annoying rascals running around the playground.

Ghetsis glares at the stone in his palm and flings it as far as his good arm can allow.

* * *

Giovanni’s head is pounding. Even with the fedora shielding his eyes, the sun is too damn bright. What worse, he’s sweating under his blazer. Maybe it wasn’t a grand idea to wear a suit to a stinking park in the first place.

Giovanni maneuvers through the crowd with nowhere in mind. It was a guarantee that he won’t be lifting a toe onto the rides. The food here wasn’t worthy of his stomach. He couldn’t even find peace in the restrooms without someone banging on the only toilet door every five minutes.

The park reeks of sweat, bad food, and misery.

Giovanni eventually drifts into a café by the appeal of air conditioning. The cold hits him like a blast of Icy Wind onto his face. Giovanni stomps past the gawking customers (all under twenty-five, mind you) and heads to the counter. Nothing is worth cracking open his wallet for. Even the spunky music and Spinda motifs are starting to incite another headache.

Just as Giovanni is about to leave, he spots a familiar tuft of hair in the corner of his eye. A Woobat? Upon closer inspection, it’s just his colleague facing the wall by his lonesome.

Relief floods into Giovanni’s voice. “Cyrus!”

Cyrus turns. “Oh. Hello, Giovanni,” he says with his usual blank mask. Giovanni doesn’t take that into offense. He’s just glad to run into someone familiar that’s not Ghetsis or Archie.

“What are you doing here?” Giovanni notes the bottle of Fresh Water on the table. Other than that, Cyrus was just staring off into space.

“Waiting.”

“Ah.” Giovanni hovers awkwardly above Cyrus as the conversation slides into an impasse.

Cyrus shifts slightly. “Would you like to sit?”

“I want to get out of this mad Spinda house,” Giovanni mutters.

“All right.” Cyrus collects his bottle and rises to his feet. It takes Giovanni a second to realize that Cyrus is waiting for him. Giovanni saunters out of the café, once again ignoring another round of stares as he returns to the outside.

He turns to see that Cyrus is still staring at him. “D-did you go on any rides, Cyrus?”

“No.”

“Ah. Did you buy anything for yourself?”

“No.”

Giovanni looks away before Cyrus’s eyes can drill a hole into his bones. “I-in that case, do you want to look at the gift store with me?”

A pause. “I can accompany you, if you wish.”

The Kecleon Gift Store is a collective mess of color and chaos. Kids are running around screaming while the adults unsuccessfully try to restore order. Students are hovering over the best-selling sections and creating road blocks.

Giovanni notices Cyrus looking around, but his eyes remain dim. The former casually walks to a hat rack. “Cyrus, you like this hat?”

Cyrus blinks. He looks at Giovanni. “Why?”

_Why?_ “W-well, if you like it, I’ll buy it for you.”

What he doesn’t expect is Cyrus’s expression to harden. “I never asked you to do such a thing, Giovanni. If you like it, then you buy it for yourself.”

Giovanni’s jaw drops. _What the hell is wrong with this brat?!_ “Fine,” Giovanni grumbles. “I was just trying to be nice.” He slaps the hat down with more force than necessary. With a huff, he jams his fists into his pockets and storms to another section. _Who cares if that kid is following him? Screw that asshole!_

After observing Giovanni flick items for a while, Cyrus finally speaks. “Don’t waste your time thinking about me, Giovanni.” His voice is steady, but there’s no trace of that coldness from earlier. “I am fine just following you.”

Giovanni slowly turns around. As usual, the snowman’s eyes are unreadable. “All right, Cyrus,” he mutters.

In order engage the brat in a normal, healthy conversation, Giovanni asks for Cyrus’s opinion about a set of shirts with printed green gears.

“Your son would like that.”

Giovanni’s ears flush. “H-how’d you know that I was going to buy it for my son?”

Cyrus tilts his head. He’s doing that thing again, with his arms clasped behind his back. “You told me that you have a son. Second, you’re getting two shirts. One shirt is smaller than the other.”

Giovanni doesn’t know whether to feel annoyed, troubled, or sad.

In the end, Giovanni emerges from the store with a bag for himself. He’d caved on the father-son shirts and caps. Cyrus assures him that his son will appreciate the sentiment, but Giovanni can’t help but notice a very faint, very forlorn look in Cyrus’s usually empty eyes.

When they find a bench to sit, Giovanni presents Cyrus with a small bag. “The cashier said these things are really popular in Treasure Town Park.”

Cyrus barely blinks. “I see. Seeds?”

Giovanni quickly scans the small print on the package. “They’re called ‘Lookalike Items.’ One of these seeds is the real deal while the other one… well… it’s not. It says that they’re completely edible, though.”

“I see.” Cyrus’s brows furrow. “What happens if you eat the fake one?”

“Erm… that’s a good question.” Giovanni stares at the bag, as if expecting the seeds to tell him the answer. He finally opens the pouch and holds it to Cyrus. “I already paid for this,” he snaps before the brat can protest. “Do me a damn favor and take one. I’m not eating this by myself.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Cyrus gingerly fishes for a seed. It’s an oval-shaped bean coated in a golden sheen. He watches Giovanni ingest his pick, and after waiting a few seconds, does the same.

“I don’t feel anything,” Cyrus says after a silence. “It tastes like a normal Sunkern kernel.”

Giovanni bites into his seed and releases a satisfying crunch. “Let’s see what the package says… ah. So this pouch contains a Reviver Seed and its Look-alike.” He raises a brow. “I think you got the real one, Cyrus.”

“Ah. Then that means… that you have the fake one.” Cyrus suddenly looks dead serious. “Are you feeling all right, Giovanni?”

“Yes… I think so.” Giovanni squints at the words again. “If you got the Reviver Seed, then I got the… the Reviser seed, with an ‘s.’”

“Reviser Seed?”

“Yes!” Giovanni gives Cyrus a warm grin, causing his colleague to flinch. “With an ‘s.’ Hah! That’s adorable, won’t you agree, _kiddo_?” He suddenly starts laughing. The laughter erupts from his stomach and spills from his throat like a gush of rainbow. “Hahah!” Giovanni’s shoulders tremble until they start to violently shake.

“HAH! Reviser Seed! **_With an ‘s!’_** ” He feels so _good_ right now! The laughter alone cures his ailments and makes him feel alive again. As if he’s living the prime of his life as a Pokemon Trainer traversing across the ranges of Kanto. “C-Cyrus! Kiddo, the-the damn Reviser Seed! Hehe…”

To Giovanni’s surprise, Cyrus actually looks very, _very_ concerned. “Why so serious, kid? Loosen up! Y’know, if you smile a bit, you can lose the eye bags, and you’ll look _exactly_ your age..!”

“Giovanni.” Cyrus’s tone is enough freeze his blood, but Giovanni’s tearing up from laughing too hard to actually realize that Cyrus’s mask is slipping.

“CYRUS! THAT WASN’T A ‘V,’ IT WAS AN ‘S!’” Giovanni leans forward to slap this poor, lost boy on the back when the world spins and turns black.

* * *

Lysandre happens to wander around the park until he hears two very familiar voices engaging in a very familiar argument.

“Archie! Maxie!” he exclaims. The two men cease bickering at his voice. Archie throws his hands up, and before Lysandre can run, rushes towards the man with a hug that rivals a Bewear’s Tackle.

“W-wait, Archie! You’re dirtying my suit!” Archie eagerly helps the exasperated man to his feet.

“Great to see you again, Lion-man!” Archie laughs. “Hey, what say you and me go to Darkrai’s Dark Crater Drop?”

Lysandre’s smile falls. “Pardon me? _Drop_ , you say?”

Archie nods enthusiastically. “They hang you over a volcano, and then they drop you almost forty stories!”

Lysandre blinks. _Did he hear Archie right? F-forty stories?_ Then he notices Maxie slumped over on the table, his carefully-combed hair sticking everywhere, his glasses hanging limply off his nose.

“What’s wrong with Monsieur Maxie?” Lysandre almost doesn’t want to know.

“He’s a wimp,” Archie says as if that explains everything.

“I almost _died_ today,” Maxie croaks. He tries to lift his head, but his face falls back onto his arms. “First the earthquake… then the avalanche…”

“For Kyogre’s sake, Maxie! That was just a little drop down the mountain! Even the little kids were laughing!”

“Archie, shut up,” Maxie hisses, his voice barely above a whimper. “My head’s already hurting without your deafening voice.”

Archie huffs and rolls his eyes. He turns back to Lysandre. “So! The Darkrai’s Dark Crater Drop.”

Lysandre makes a big deal of clearing his throat. “A-ah. Yes… That… ride. Haha…” He grabs at his brain for any excuse, no matter how pathetic. “Unfortunately, Archie… I cannot go with you because I am… hungry?” That last words comes out as a squeak, and Lysandre mentally slaps himself. _Not on the face, no. Such a stupid excuse. It’s like something from a child’s cartoon._

But Archie is nodding like he’d just heard that the Coral Reef was under attack. “Hunger is the enemy of man,” he growls. Lysandre stiffens when Archie lays a clammy paw on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Lion-man! I’ll get you something to eat!”

“N-non. That’s not necessary—”

But Archie is already gone. Lysandre stares at the dust clouds and goes to join Maxie at the table.

“You two are very close,” Lysandre says after a silence.

“Childhood friends.” Maxie attempts to dispel the nausea by exhaling through his teeth. “He loves children’s rides. Always wanted me to go with me.”

“Surely he has other friends?”

“Of course he does.” Maxie stares at his fingers and sighs. “But he prefers to keep the happier times closer to his heart.”

Before Lysandre can ask to clarify, Archie returns with three cups of… _goop_ , for lack of a better word.

Lysandre finally snaps. _“What the Zygarde is that hideous abomination?”_

“This? Oh, this is Grimy Food.” Archie doesn’t bat an eye as he takes a spoonful into his mouth. Just watching the man eat is enough to make Lysandre go vegan.

“Archie,” Maxie says very, very slowly. “This is not food. This is sewage waste.”

Archie swallows a particularly chunky glob of gunk. _Oh sweet Pyroar, did something just_ crunch _in there_? “No it ain’t, ya big nerd! Everyone goes to Treasure Town Park to buy Grimy Food! It’s a delicacy!”

Lysandre stares into his cup. Despite his trained culinary nose and tongue, he fails to discern the smell of such an… _ugly_ creation. He has to _eradicate_ it. “What does it taste like, Archie?” he manages to choke out.

Archie shrugs. “I don’t know.” _Of course. Of course he doesn’t know._ “Why don’t you try it yourself, both of you?”

“I’d rather be swallowed by a fissure,” Maxie snaps at the same time Lysandre hisses,” I’d rather get crushed by a falling building.”

Archie gasps. His then sighs longingly and sadly. “But… but I waited in that long line just to get these for you… They were running out, but I said that I had to very hungry friends…” He jabs an arm to his forehead. “I’ve waited so long just to come here with everyone, but y’all just…” His words trail off as Archie weeps into his arm. Lysandre and Maxie glance at each other. While Lysandre is shocked at this crude display, Maxie looks like he’s used to dealing with this on a daily basis.

“Fine,” Maxie mutters through gritted teeth. Archie’s face brightens like the sun over the ocean. “Just… stop crying. That trick’s old.”

“Aw, thanks, Maxie! You’re such a good friend…” Archie dabs his nonexistent tears.

Maxie gingerly scoops a portion of gunk onto his spoon. He glares at the gaping Lysandre. “Well? You’re responsible for this idiot too.”

“V-very well.” _Might as well throw away his pride._ Lysandre instinctively recoils at the stench of the grime. He locks eyes with Maxie, bids a quiet farewell to his Pyroar, and the two professors put the Grimy Food into their mouths.

“Well?” Archie clenches his fists excitedly.

Maxie chews on the thing for a second and lets it mellow on his tongue. “I… guess it’s edible… I’ll eat it if I absolutely have to… eventually…”

“See? Told ya there’s no harm!” Archie grins at Lysandre. “How about you, Lion-man?”

OH YVETAL HIT HIM WITH OBLIVION WING ALREADY. He knew from the beginning – the VERY BEGINNING when his tongue contracted before the food ever reached his mouth. His teeth ache as if the “food” contains a raging strain of cavity-inducing bacteria. The taste… _the texture_ … Rubber? No. Sawdust. Nononon. WHAT IS THIS?! _A mealy apple that was salvaged from the bottom of the fridge?_ The sour, rancid taste floods into the back of his throat, the remnants fouling his nostrils and scalding his taste receptors.

SO WHY. IN THE NAME OF MEGA EVOLUTION. DID HE SWALLOW THAT INFERNAL PILE OF CRAP?!

As Lysandre struggles to contain Archie’s “gift,” Maxie is absently glancing at the container. “Grimy Food,” he reads aloud. “A famous food item in the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon universe. To replicate its authenticity, we guarantee that a random batch will contain mild status effects.”

Maxie stops cold. “Archie?” he says with a cold, polite smile.

“Yeah? What’s up, Maxie?”

Maxie’s smile is strained. “What do they mean by… _status effects_?”

“Oh, that. Well, that’s what’s so fun about eating Grimy Food! You never know what you might expect!”

Maxie slams his fists on the table. “ARCHIE, YOU FISH-BRA—” Then his eyes pop from their sockets as his face swells to a dark shade of scarlet. He begins gagging like a fish out of water and drops back on the table.

“Haha! Lucky you, Maxie! You got the Burn status effect!” Archie rummages through his bag and produces a jar of Moomoo Milk. “Don’t worry. I expected something like this to happen, so I also got you some milk.”

Then Archie’s grin fades when he turns to Lysandre. “Uh. Hey, Lysandre. You, uh… you okay there, buddy?”

Lysandre makes a squeaking sound before the world tilts on its side and turns white.

* * *

_He sees her again. She’s standing in the middle of the field, her back against the crimson sun. In the darkening light, her hair flares like a halo of fire. He attempts to reach her, but she won’t even look at him. She has their son. He is powerless to stop her from vanishing into the sun. Powerless to stop her from leaving again._

“No… don’t go, Ariana…”

Giovanni’s eyes snap open to a bright pink rock towering over him. He screams, causing the Pokemon to jump. Seconds later its Trainer materializes to his side: a woman in a doctor’s uniform.

“Good job, Chansey. I see that our guest is awake.”

Giovanni slowly takes in his surroundings. He’d seen this woman before… or the many incarnations of her. “Nurse Joy?”

Nurse Joy smiles. “Yes! You’re in the Park’s Pokemon Center for a case of Reviser Seed hangover. Don’t worry. Nothing was seriously damaged, and you’re good to go!”

The memories rush back to him, as does his anger. “How can you say that so casually? I almost _died_!”

Nurse Joy continues smiling, as if she deals with his type on a regular basis. “When you purchased your ticket, you automatically waived your rights to sue the Park for such… accidents. In addition, you’ve acknowledged that any illness or injury that you might acquire within Park grounds are entirely your responsibility.” She flashes another robotic smile.

Giovanni blanches. _How could he, a successful businessman and contractor, have neglected to read the fine print?! Ugh, this day keeps getting worse and worse...!_

“Oh yes,” the Nurse says. “Your friend is waiting outside.”

Giovanni blinks. “Friend?”

Nurse Joy nods. “The one that carried you all the way here? That was very impressive of him. He looked on the verge of fainting but denied treatment.”

Giovanni’s mind is still blank.

“Your friend,” she repeats as if regurgitating information to a child. “The one… the one who really needs to sleep.”

_Cyrus?_ Giovanni scrambles off his bed, gives the Nurse a quick thank-you, and heads to the waiting room.

Cyrus glances up as Giovanni approaches. Before Giovanni can say anything, he shoves a Fresh Water into his hands.

“But—”

“Take it. You lost a lot of liquid through your tears.” Cyrus’s sharp, authorities tone saps Giovanni’s strength to argue. The latter sighs and twists the seal.

The bottle is warm.

Cyrus is sipping his own Fresh Water in silence. Giovanni hesitates before joining him on the bench.

“How do you feel?” Cyrus says, measuring Giovanni with even eyes.

“Like shit.” Giovanni chugs his bottle and tosses it in the trash. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve definitely felt worse.”

Cyrus makes a faint choking sound. Giovanni turns to his colleague in shock, but Cyrus appears to be perfectly fine, although his lips are tugging to one side.

Was he _laughing?_

“I see,” Cyrus hums. His fingers drum across the bottle’s edge. “You surprised me when you suddenly fainted. I had to make sure your blood pressure wasn’t affected, otherwise we’ll have to contact the hospital.”

Giovanni scoffs, but he’s smirking. “Who do you think you’re talking to, squirt? I’ve been alive for fi—” He bites his tongue before he digs his own grave. “I run a successful company, not to mention that I’m also a professor in one of the most prestigious universities in the world. A pathetic seed won’t be the end of me.”

Cyrus nods. “I agree. It would be most fitting for you to meet your end in violence.” Giovanni’s jaw drops. That’s not sarcasm… is it? No, Cyrus isn’t even _smiling_. In order to dispel the gooseflesh crawling up his neck, Giovanni dismisses that quip as Cyrus’s ill-meaning dark sense of humor.

Suddenly an ear-popping scream explodes in the adjacent room.

“What the _hell_ was that?” Giovanni roars.

Another incarnation of Nurse Joy happens to pass by. “We have two gentlemen admitted for Grimy Food poisoning,” she says like it’s another day on the job. “People just don’t read the fine print…”

“Let’s get out of this blasted place,” Giovanni mutters. Cyrus doesn’t question his choice.

* * *

The park is now terribly congested, but Giovanni is glad as an Onix with a Metal Coat to escape that creepy Nurse Joy and all her reincarnations. He barrels through the sea of people until he comes across a much less populated area: the playground.

Giovanni slows his pace significantly. He straightens his back, dusts off his suit, and pastes a smug smirk on his face. _Oh yes. He’s back, baby._

“Cyrus.”

Cyrus shifts to show reaction.

“Thanks, squirt.”

Cyrus tilts his head. “My name is Cyrus, not ‘squirt’… and why are you thanking me?”

Giovanni’s smirk wavers a bit, but he doesn’t let go. “For bringing me to the Pokemon Center… and for saving my life back there. I almost went into the light if it wasn’t for you.”

His colleague fixes Giovanni with an odd look. “I see.” Cyrus shifts his gaze to the ground. “I was only doing what anyone would in that situation.”

Giovanni scoffs, “Hey, you should be grateful. I don’t usually give out heartfelt words of gratitude.”

He can’t see Cyrus’s expression. “I suppose,” is the muted reply.

Then Cyrus stops walking. His eyes snap back to their usual, alert self. “That’s Ghetsis, isn’t it?” He nods to the leaf-like strands of hair protruding from the bench.

_Oh for the love of Mew, it’s that asshole again._

Giovanni expects an obnoxious retort at his presence, but Ghetsis doesn’t even look up. Instead, he looks completely out of it: hunched on his elbows, his stare glassy and unfocused, his lips frozen between a gasp and a frown. Giovanni looks to what holds Ghetsis’s attention.

And he chuckles. “Remembering old times?” Giovanni slides down to the opposite end of the bench. The Lettuce-Man jolts violently.

“You!” Ghetsis hisses, the bitterness returning to his face.

“Yes. It is I.” Giovanni’s smirk is growing. “Thought I was someone else?”

Judging from Ghetsis’s scowl, Giovanni had hit the sweet spot. “It’s all this puny pebble’s fault. I think they infused their blasted ‘gifts’ with Vileplume powder or some other potent hallucinogen.”

Giovanni raises a brow. “Oh? You too?”

“Yes, I—” Ghetsis shoots Giovanni a curious look. The latter quickly realizes his mistake, but it’s far too late to fix anything. _Ghetsis’s smirk is back, baby._ “A-ah! No wonder you looked like you just recovered from a gang fight!”

“And you look like a sordid old man after a hangover,” Giovanni shoots back and feels damn proud of himself.

“O-old? Coming from a fossil like you, I’d take that as a compliment!”

“F-fossil? Now listen here, assho—”

Some kids are gathering to watch these two, strange men bicker. The two colleagues immediately shut up when they feel the parents’ glares on their backs.

“We’re professors,” Giovanni says weakly. “We hold differing points of view, is all.”

“Yes, yes.” Ghetsis rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Now, what is your opinion on fossil revival, my friend? There comes the question of ethics…”

When the crowd reluctantly disperses, Giovanni and Ghetsis scrap their camaraderie and return to glaring daggers into the other.

“So you _do_ miss your son, huh?” Giovanni snaps.

“I have no reason to do that! That ungrateful ingrate gave up his only chance at a future just so he can talk with his imaginary friends!” Ghetsis shoves an angry hand in the air. “How about you, eh? That spoiled brat doesn’t even know how good he has it!”

Giovanni’s nostrils flare. “Don’t you dare talk about my son like that, Lettuce-Head!”

Ghetsis raises his head for the air to rush into his lungs in preparation of another verbal assault. Then he happens to catch Cyrus’s eye. Ghetsis gives a strangled gasp and almost falls off his seat.

“C-Cyrus, you freak! How long were you here?”

In fact, Cyrus had been so quiet that Giovanni forgets that he even existed in the first place.

“I’ve been here,” Cyrus says flatly. He seems to be distracted by something up ahead to even respond to Ghetsis’s insult.

“Hey, Cyrus,” Giovanni says. “What’s the matter?”

“That pair over there,” Cyrus says without missing a beat. Oh. The father and son playing football? “They look content, but why is he hitting his son like that?”

Giovanni and Ghetsis exchange glances and a rare moment of understanding. “He’s patting the brat’s head,” Ghetsis mutters without his usual sarcasm.

“I see that. But why? It doesn’t appear to be a form of aggression.”

Another shared glance. Giovanni says, “It’s… more of a gesture of affection. Much more indirect than an embrace, but it still conveys the same message…”

Cyrus nods, but he still looks doubtful. “A message. I see…”

Then Ghetsis sighs and swings a hand on Cyrus’s head. The latter goes rigid like a metal pipe, but his seniors don’t seem to notice his sudden paralysis.

“Look,” Ghetsis says in a bored tone. “It’s simple. I’ll tell you, ‘Good job, Cyrus. You outperformed all the other slobs in your class. Dad’s taking you to eat that diabetes-inducing Castelilacone you’ve always wanted.”

“That’s pathetic.” Giovanni claims his own spot on Cyrus’s head. “You say, ‘Well done, kid. You learned to ride that bike all by yourself. Now I’ll read you a new bedtime story,’” he says as he musses Cyrus’s hair.

Ghetsis rolls his eyes. “Is that your idea of parental incentive? No wonder your own son’s spoiled.” He also begins to pat Cyrus’s hair. “You say, ‘They’re making fun of you because their idiocy knows no bounds. All they have in that head of theirs is hot air. Don’t waste your breath talking to them. They’re just envious of what you have.’”

“Hah! Sappy words from a sappy tree. ‘Don’t let it get to you, Cyrus. You learn from your mistakes. Don’t worry, I’m right here with you if you need help.’”

“Pfft. ‘If they’re avoiding you, then they’re not your friends, Cyrus. Forget about them. As you grow up, you’ll realize that having many people around you isn’t the same as having steady friends. Just one or two people is enough to be your friends for life.’”

“You’re just projecting your own son onto Cyrus!”

“That’s what you’re doing, you hypocritical gangs—”

“ _Enough_!” Cyrus violently wretches himself from their clutches. His eyes are bright… much brighter than normal. His shoulders are tense. Giovanni notices that Cyrus’s hands have begun to tremble.

“Cyrus?” Giovanni begins to stand. Even Ghetsis’ face is grim. “I- I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Cyrus puts his hands out, and Giovanni freezes. The kid’s breathing is erratic.

“Cyrus.” Ghetsis also stands. His voice is uncharacteristically stern.

“I’m fine,” Cyrus murmurs into his hands. “I am fine…” He repeats the phase until he can believe his words. “It… it just took me by surprise.” His face is still hidden. “I apologize. I will be back.”

Giovanni and Ghetsis watch as Cyrus staggers into out the playground like a marionette searching for its master. Then the two verbal enemies look at each other, and for the first time, neither feel the need to engage in pointless argument.

* * *

When Cyrus returns, he also brings the rest of the group.

“Giovanni and Ghetsis are here? In the same space?” Archie shoots them both a quizzical look. “You look… terrible. Both of you.”

Ghetsis exhales through gritted teeth. “I can’t stand this belligerent shrimp.” But Giovanni can tell that his annoyance is just a front for something else.

“Archie. Maxie and Lysandre look like they just got their stomachs pumped,” Giovanni says. In fact, the nerd and aristocrat are slumped against the benches like bags of flour. Giovanni risks a tentative glance at Cyrus, who still appears to be in a state of shock.

Archie glances back at this group. Maxie and Lysandre glare at him, but they don’t have the strength to yell anymore. “Hehe… funny story, actually.” He looks back to Giovanni. “We found Cyrus sitting by the pond by himself. He still seems pretty out of it.” To prove his point, Archie passes a hand through Cyrus’s face. The kid appears buried under a burden of thoughts.

Archie clears his throat. “So, uh… Anything new happen to you two?”

Giovanni and Ghetsis glare at each other. _This day is just brimming with surprises._

“Nothing much,” Giovanni says lightly. Archie nods, still unconvinced.

Then he shrugs and claps his hands. “Okay, then. Now that we’re reunited, let’s go to Sharpedo Bluff!”


	5. The Park Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pokevillains finally ride Sharpedo Bluff. Cyrus brings home a souvenir.

Giovanni seizes Cyrus by the shoulders and shakes. The younger man’s head snaps back. Giovanni waits with bated breath as the light slowly and painfully returns to Cyrus’s eyes.

_Oh thank Celebi. The kid is back._

“Cyrus!” Archie swings his giant arms around his friend. Cyrus utters a strangled gasp as Archie’s Ursaring-like arms crush his back. Thankfully, the latter lets go before Cyrus can retreat back into his mind.

“Cyrus. Are you all right?” Maxie says. He’d recovered from the Grimy Food incident a while ago. Physically, anyway.

“A…All right?” Cyrus grasps his chest. “Did I… go somewhere?”

“You just froze up, friend.” Lysandre peers into Cyrus’s face. “The color’s returning to your skin, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry?” Cyrus mutters through the cracks in his fingers. Then he notices the circle of colleagues around him, as well as gawking students, parents, and strangers.

Giovanni grips his shoulders again. From somewhere in the line, Dawn sneaks a quick snapshot for her ACS content.

“Cyrus, can you hear me?” Giovanni says sternly.

“Yes. I am fine. Thank you.” Cyrus stiffly pushes Giovanni’s hand away.

Another hand grasps the youngest professor’s head and gently tilts it upwards. Ghetsis squints down at Cyrus before letting go with a huff, much to the latter’s shock and everyone’s confusion. “Well,” Ghetsis mumbles. “You’re not comatose.”

Cyrus blinks again and shakes his head. “Where are we?”

“In line.” Archie grins with his hands spread. “We’re going to ride Sharpedo Bluff!”

“We’ve been here for two stinking hours!” Giovanni growls as he dabs his forehead with a handkerchief. “Archie, don’t you have a priority pass or something?”

“Sorry, Giovanni. Half the fun is waiting in line!”

Maxie scowls. “It reeks of sweat. It is sweltering. My students are shooting glances at me. I have no intention of talking to them.”

Lysandre smooths his cravat. He’s busy flashing sweaty smiles to his fans. Maxie sighs.

“This is stupid,” Ghetsis mutters.

Archie puts his fists on his hips. “Lighten up, Lettuce-man! We’re almost there!”

Sure enough, the six men soon arrive to the front of the line. The cart pulls up to the gate—a Sharpedo-themed ship (Archie wouldn’t shut up on his compliments) with three seats each in the front and back.

It is unanimously, silently decided amongst the taller men that Maxie and Cyrus will sit in the middle. Archie and Lysandre protects Maxie in the back while Giovanni and Ghetsis flank Cyrus in the front.

A teenager hurries to Ghetsis. “U-um, Sir! I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ghetsis shoots him the dirty eyeball.

“Um, Sir! You have a cane. Y-you might fall—”

“You don’t get paid enough to stop me,” Ghetsis says with smug finality. The teenager’s eyes dart around. “Behold. I can move perfectly fine!” Ghetsis thrusts his right arm into the attendant’s face and almost tips his cap.

“Whatever, man,” the teenager huffs. “Just don’t mention my name when you sue the park.” He bends to test the safety bars.

“Of course, _Fred.”_

Cyrus sees through Ghetsis’s ploy, though. “Why would you lie?” he asks the taller man.

Ghetsis’s jaw goes slack, but then he quickly recomposes his mask. “What the heck are you talking about?”

“I can tell you’re in pain. Your right arm is trembling.” Cyrus’s monotone is starting to unnerve even Giovanni. He watches as Ghetsis’s eyes flash with something that looks like fear before he passes it off as a scoff.

“I hate observant little freaks like you,” Ghetsis hisses. Cyrus’s expression hardens, but he leaves the conversation at that. A blizzard is brewing on Giovanni’s right side.

“Hey,” Archie yells from the back. “Everything okay up there?”

“We’re good,” Giovanni replies nonchalantly. “How about yourself?”

“I’m having second thoughts,” Maxie moans. He had stored his glasses in his pockets. Giovanni thinks of telling Ghetsis about his odd monocle and immediately casts that thought away.

“I’m afraid I will soil my vest,” Lysandre mutters. “My stomach has never felt so empty…”

“Stop worrying, y’all!” Archie laughs. Giovanni feels his seat rock with Archie’s hoots. “I’ve waited so long for this day! It’s about to get _LIT_!”

Maxie groans at the noise. “I’m only going with you because I feel bad. You promised me that there won’t be any drops on this ride.”

Archie’s laughter suddenly stops. “Ha… of course, Maxie, my bestest and reddest friend! No drops… none at all. Yup! No drops!”

Before Giovanni can comprehend Archie’s change of tone, the cart jerks to life. The speakers in the ramps above crackle and boom, “WELCOME TO TREASURE TOWN THEME PARK! WE ARE EXCITED THAT YOU CHOSE TO BOARD OUR AWARD-WINNING ATTRACTION, SHARPEDO BLUFF! WE USE CUTTING-EDGE TECHNOLOGY TO ENSURE AS MUCH REALISM AS POSSIBLE! THE COURSE OF THE RIDE WILL TAKE APPROXIMATELY ONE HOUR.”

Maxie blanches. Lysandre looks a bit uneasy. Giovanni realizes that his neck is covered in gooseflesh.

“BUT YOU’LL GET TO EXPERIENCE A RIDE LIKE NEVER BEFORE! A FEW SAFTEY TIPS…” The pre-recorded voice rolls off the basics as the cart heads around the tracks. Giovanni’s heart pounds into his head. He grips the bar when the cart inches its way before the entrance of Beach Cave.

“Woo!” Archie yells. Giovanni and Maxie tells him to shut up.

“PLEASE KEEP YOUR ARMS AND LEGS INSIDE THE VEHICLE AT ALL TIMES. WOULDN’T WANT TO LOSE A PRECIOUS LIMB!”

_What the f--_

“AND NOW THAT THE MONTAGE IS OVER… WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF POKEMON!”

* * *

The sky immediately plunges into darkness. Giovanni gropes around for his surroundings when a deafening thunderclap shatters the silence. And then the cart shakes. And then he feels rain on his head.

“My hair!” Lysandre growls.

“What the _hell_?” Ghetsis roars. The heavens answer by dropping a bolt of lightning right beside his seat.

“That… that’s not real lightning, is it?” Maxie shields his face with his hands.

“It is,” Cyrus says, deadpan. “And this is real water.”

Archie pumps up his drenched fists. “Whoo! Now that’s what I call _interactive entertainment!”_

“Archie!” Giovanni snaps as the cart sways nauseously under his feet. _Are they caught in a typhoon?!_ His stomach lurches. “I just had this suit dry-cleaned!”

“What in Groudon’s name is _that_?” Maxie screeches. Everyone stares as a colossal tidal wave towers over the cart. It’s too real to be fake. Giovanni whimpers a soft apology to his son before the wave swallows them whole.

And everything goes black.

* * *

At least, until the lighting changes and Giovanni recognizes the entrance to Beach Cave. He feels for his face. His hands. His money. Although he’s dripping wet, he didn’t lose any limbs.

“Everyone okay?” Giovanni yells over the pounding in his ears.

“This is horrible,” Lysandre mutters.

“Maxie! Don’t go boneless on me! Wait. No, Maxie. Don’t--! Keep it down. Swallow it, Maxie! KEEP IT DOWN!” Archie thumps against Giovanni’s seat, sending the latter’s already weakened stomach into a sickening flip.

“I’m going to sue whoever designed this torrential disaster.” Ghetsis dries his monocle with an exasperated frown.

Giovanni glances at Cyrus. “I am fine,” the younger professor says in a voice way too faint for comfort.

Then the cart jerks forward. Archie yelps. Maxie moans. Lysandre scoots as far back in his seat as possible. Giovanni silently thanks Celebi’s blessing for him not having to sit near Maxie.

And when he locks eyes with Ghetsis, the anger surges back into his brain.

“This is amazing!” Archie says from the back.

“No, it’s not!” Ghetsis retorts. “We are soaking wet!”

“That means we don’t have to shower tonight! Save water!”

Giovanni busies himself with marveling at the location before his blood pressure gets the better of him. Again. This place actually feels like an actual cave, complete with multicolored sand and the saline air. Marine Pokemon peek out at this strange party.

“The attention to detail is magnificent!” Lysandre says as he watches a Lileep creep up the cavern walls.

A piece of rock falls on Giovanni’s lap. He curses and glares at the ceiling in disbelief. He turns his attention back to the stone: it’s a jagged piece of rock with a strange inscription on the surface.

“May I see that?” Cyrus leans closer while still keeping his distance. Ghetsis also raises an interested eyebrow.

“Knock yourself out.”

The cart rolls away from Beach Cave. Right now, the sun is setting across the sea. A warm breeze grazes Giovanni’s face.

“Are those bubbles?” Archie gasps.

“Back home, if the weather is clear, the Krabby go out to blow bubbles,” Cyrus says to no one in particular.

“Really?” Maxie manages to say through his funk. “Remind me to visit Sinnoh someday, Cyrus.”

“Of course. I can arrange a trip for you, Maxie. And Archie as well, if you’re interested.”

“Sign me up, Cyrus!”

Giovanni chuckles under his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Ghetsis’s unnaturally tender expression. Giovanni shudders from a chill unseen.

The cart rumbles into a bunker carved on the side of a cliff. A big, pink _thing_ towers over them like a building that’s about to collapse. Giovanni reaches for his gun, only to recall that he left it at home.

“What is that?” Maxie chokes.

“Wigglytuff!” Archie chirps.

“I’ve been here,” Lysandre says as the cart spins around the inner chamber. “This is Wigglytuff’s Guild. The base for all exploration teams in this Pokemon world.”

After a peaceful tour of the Guild, the men return to Treasure Town Square. The cart bashes into a life-sized Drowzee. Giovanni lets loose a string of colorful curses as his stomach flips all the place. Ghetsis cackles as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“You’re very… knowledgeable,” Cyrus hums, causing a scarlet flush to hit Giovanni’s ears. Ghetsis visibly shakes from laughter.

The cart heads to the Crossroads and speeds off to a mountainous area.

“Fascinating,” Maxie mutters, his earlier grogginess dispelled in the name of science. “So many rock formations... igneous, sedimentary…”

“It’s just dirt, nerd,” Archie snorts.

“Is it now? Well, your water is just Pokemon piss, fish-brain!”

“Gentlemen, please.” Lysandre attempts to soothe to verbal engagement to no avail. Giovanni and Ghetsis let the argument play out with smirks on their lips.

Only when the cart begins to climb does Maxie shut his mouth. “A-Archie?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought you said that will not be any drops.”

Archie blinks. “How are you going to traverse a mountain if you don’t climb up first, Maxie?”

Maxie absorbs those words and breathes a sigh of relief. Giovanni does the same.

“This mountain is bristling with Spinarak and Machop,” Ghetsis growls. Fortunately, the cart has reached even ground. It slides across the mountain peak before stopping at a very small hole in the wall.

“What?” Giovanni slaps the side of the cart. “Is this thing broken?”

“It’s not moving.” Lysandre looks around with furrowed brow. “We can’t all fit into that hole.” Archie, being the intellectual that he is, begins to snicker. Maxie scowls when his friend punches him in the arm. Ghetsis rolls his eyes.

Cyrus lowers his head in concentration. His eyes flicker to his surroundings… and then he bars a single sharp, cold command: “ _Down!”_

Everyone drops their heads as the cart smashes into the rock wall and proceeds down a ledge path as if nothing had happened.

Giovanni slaps himself to stop the ringing in his ears. Ghetsis beats him to the punch. “Did we just _ram_ into a stone wall?” The Lettuce-Head’s nostrils are flaring.

“I know! Wasn’t that great?”

“Archie!” Maxie snaps.

“That… wasn’t great at all, Monsieur Archie,” Lysandre grumbles as he rubs his head.

Cyrus appears to be completely calm. “Are you all right?” he asks Giovanni.

“Peachy,” is the quiet answer.

* * *

Then _that_ sound reaches Giovanni’s ears. The sound of pounding water. He jerks his head to the side. _Yes._ Two streams of water surrounding this ledge. The slope grows steeper as the rumbling grows louder.

 _Is it really the water or his_ heart _that’s making this infernal racket?_

There’s only one thing in the entire world that makes such a terrifying sound.

“A waterfall!” Archie marvels at this nature’s wonder. Giovanni puts his head down. The cart stops before the waterfall in question. The raging pressure scalds his skin.

“The details are amazing.” Lysandre stares but keeps his distance from the bombarding droplets of water.

“This is an actual waterfall,” Maxie breathes. “They have an actual waterfall in a _theme park.”_

“Ridiculous.” Despite Ghetsis’s skepticism, he’s not tearing his eyes away from the landscape.

“So what now?” Archie addresses the cart’s sudden stop.

Ghetsis waves a dismissive hand. “Maybe we _also_ rush **head-first** into the waterfall.”

Archie snorts, but there’s a slight edge in his voice. “Don’t **jump** to conclusions, Lettuce-man. Look! There **aren’t any tracks** leading up to the waterfall in the first place!”

As Archie and Ghetsis argue over the next course of action, Cyrus turns his head. “Giovanni.”

“Y-yes?”

“Your muscles are locked in place.” Cyrus narrows his eyes. “Are you sc—”

_“Me? Scared of a little water?! Not in your damn life!”_ Giovanni keeps his voice down to not attract an unwanted Vegetable. Cyrus is listening intently, though. “Listen, Cyrus. If you’ve been around—I mean, _experienced_ what I have, then a mere waterfall is just a—”

The cart leaps off the ledge and dives into the raging waterfall. Cold, freezing water rush into every pore on Giovanni’s exposed skin. When the world stops spinning, he hears the discordant array of voices calling his name.

“ _Giovanni!”_

Said man gasps. “Gio!” Archie yells from the back. “You good?”

“Y-yes!” Giovanni snaps. “I’m in peak condition!”

“You were unresponsive for five minutes!” Maxie shouts. “You missed the first part of the cave!”

“Not really,” Lysandre huffs. “We all just ruined our clothes. Again.” He wrings the water from his cravat.

Ghetsis’s smug smirk is enough to revert Giovanni back to his angry self. “I’m fine,” the latter growls. “It just… took me by surprise. That’s all.” Cyrus gives him a strange look before turning away.

“Oh, wow. _Wow. Really? Really, really?”_ Ghetsis positions his face in a display of feigned surprise. Giovanni almost wants to bite his restraints loose to slug that bastard in his nonfunctional eye. Almost. But he needs to save face in front of his other colleagues.

The cave is pleasantly cool. Everyone is cold and miserable from their wet clothes. To add insult to injury, there’s a puddle gathering under Giovanni’s ass. It shouldn’t have bothered him this much, but it does.

Cyrus casts another furtive glance at Giovanni. “What?” the older man barks. Cyrus just shakes his head.

When the cart recedes to the deeper part of the waterfall cave, Giovanni sighs. “All right. Fine. You caught me, Cyrus. I… I dislike waterfalls.”

Cyrus raises a brow. “Do you dislike getting wet?”

“No,” Giovanni whispers. “It’s not just that. When I was back at Kanto, there was this place called Tohjo Falls. I wasn’t in the right state of mind, so—”

Giovanni’s words are cut short when Lysandre cries out, “What a beautiful gem!”

“I’ve never seen such a luster.” Maxie squints into the light. Indeed, the gem glistens with a brilliant rosy glow. “It’s as big as us!”

“Hey!” Archie suddenly sounds serious. “Ghetsis! What are you doing?”

Ghetsis scoffs as he gropes his good hand in the air. “I’m not passing at an opportunity is what I’m doing, Archibald.”

“Excellent idea!” Lysandre hits his fist against his palm. “Why, I can have this gem inspected and sent to the lab for samples!” Ghetsis smirks and continues his purge.

Cyrus’s eyes flash. “Wait. Ghetsis. You shouldn’t—”

“AHA!” Ghetsis manages to dislodge the gem. A faint _click_ echoes throughout the cavern. Everything holds its breath until the world begins to shake.

“Earthquake!” Maxie grips his seat until his knuckles turn white.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Ghetsis had slumped back into his seat with his shoulders hunched and arms tensed. Rocks begin to fall from the ceiling, a few head-sized boulders narrowly missing the cart.

Then _that_ sound touches his visceral organs. Giovanni stiffly wretches his neck to the back where the mother of all waves descends down its path of raging destruction. The cart flips off the track. Bodies fly forward. The world jars from black to white as the cart shoots into the sky. Someone screams, and it’s not Maxie, Archie, Cyrus, Ghetsis, nor Lysandre.

* * *

Archie is the first one to regain consciousness. He flicks something hot and wet from his cheeks. After a quick whiff, he concludes that this water contains a slight sulfuric compound. Then he notices the steam. _Ah. So the cart had erupted from the waterfall all the way over there… to have landed here, in the hot springs._

“This is awesome! Look how far we traveled!” His grin falls when he turns to his friend. “Maxie? Maaaxieee? Wake up!” Archie scoops some steam water into his palm and splashes it into his friend’s face.

“AUGH!” Maxie sputters like a fish out of water. His head thrashes against his restraints. When he calms down, Archie is greeted with an earth-shattering glare. “WHAT IN GROUDON’S NAME WAS THAT?!”

Lysandre flinches. His eyelids flutter open to see veins popping in Maxie’s neck while his friend just grins and laugh. _Ugh._ Sulfuric water in Lysandre’s leather suit. Sulfuric water in his carefully combed hair. _This will not do at all!_

Ghetsis’s jaw snaps shut. He rubs his eyes and slicks his hair back. He casts a glance to the right… and smirks. _What a shame to leave the camera at home._ Ghetsis grabs a fistful of hot water and casts it in Giovanni’s face. Unfortunately, he misses, but some steam water lands in Giovanni’s thighs, so all is good in this rotten world.

Giovanni still doesn’t react. Ghetsis’s smirk falters ever so slightly. He feels around for his cane and bashes that mafia-face in his self-righteous cheekbone.

“ _WHAT THE F—”_ Giovanni slaps Ghetsis’s cane away and proceeds to murder the Lettuce-Head with his eyes. “ _Do you want to die today, asshole?”_

“I’m not the one that died twice!”

“The front’s awake!” Archie says. “Everyone good up there?”

“Yes!” the fathers snap in unison and also glower in sync.

“Everything’s peachy down here,” Lysandre grunts.

Ghetsis jerks his chin. “I’m sick of your attitude, you impudent gangster.”

“Your face has seen better days,” Ghetsis retorts, snorting when Ghetsis’s already flushed face reddens.

“Is Cyrus all right?” Maxie’s question snaps the two bickering men back to their senses.

“He’s fine,” Giovanni replies automatically. _Yes, Cyrus is all right. His eyes are open. His face looks… um…_

“Cyrus?” Ghetsis murmurs and exchanges a look with Giovanni.

Giovanni leans closer and notices that Cyrus’s lips are vibrating at the speed of light. Some snippets of breath transform into words along the lines of: “ _whenknowledgeisexpandedlifeisenrichedwhenemotionawakensjoyandsorrowcoexistwhenadecisionismadeactionistaken—”_

Giovanni and Ghetsis pass another rare moment of understanding before slapping Cyrus in the back of the head.

Cyrus gasps. He shoots upright as if a ruler had snapped itself against his back. But instead of being rightfully angry, he just looks very, very confused.

“Cyrus!” Archie calls from the back. “You alive, buddy?”

“Yes...?” Cyrus croaks, blinking hard. “Yes. I think so.”

The cart wades out of the hot springs and into a craggy coast besides the ocean. No one speaks. The Wingulls circle and shriek overhead. No one dares to look at each other, especially Archie.

* * *

And the next time Giovanni opens his eyes, everything is white. _No, he hasn’t gone blind—it’s just fog. Thank Mew._ Although, he had never seen this type of fog before: it’s thick and very heavy, so much so that it distorts everything. Giovanni can’t even see his hands unless it’s right in front of him.

“It’s fog!” Archie says.

“We know!” Maxie, Giovanni, Lysandre, and Ghetsis growl.

Then Maxie yelps. “Archie! Get your sweaty paws off me!”

“Oops. Sorry, Maxie!”

“The cart is shaking,” Lysandre notes.

“D-don’t be ridiculous,” Ghetsis mutters weakly.

Giovanni leers into the fog. “Scared of a little mist, Harmonia?”

“Silence! Says the fool with the childish fear of heights!

Despite the cold fog clinging to his bones, heat flushes to Giovanni’s face. “I-I am _not_ afraid of heights! The w-waterfall just caught me off guard!” Ghetsis snorts from somewhere in the eerie calm. Giovanni ignores the murmurs of the backseat and focuses on regaining his bearings.

“Giovanni.” He starts at Cyrus’s clipped tone. _A warning? Is something wrong?_ Giovanni squints into the fog—he can’t even make out the squirt’s silhouette.

“Cyrus?”

“Yes. Please let go of my hand.”

Giovanni realizes that yes, he _is_ holding onto something that is not the seat harness. That something is bony and cold as ice.

“Sorry,” Giovanni mutters. Cyrus might’ve said something, but his words die in the mire of white.

* * *

And then all light returns when the cart enters a cave. A blast of steam almost scorches Ghetsis’s eyebrows right off. Giovanni cackles, despite the sweat building up from under his suit.

“I hope you fall off a waterfall,” Ghetsis hisses as he fans his hair. His threat pierces through Giovanni’s shields before the latter rightens himself with a smirk.

“You’ll be lucky if you burned to death. Or get electrocuted.”

“Gentlemen,” Lysandre sighs. His hair is a puff ball from the extreme moisture in the air. “Can we at least _try_ to be civil?”

“Water,” Archie wheezes.

Maxie, though, sounds completely fine. “It’s like a sauna. The temperature is a toasty 90 degrees Celsius. That’s around… 195 Fahrenheit, right Ghetsis?”

“Do not mock me,” Ghetsis mutters, too low for it to be an actual threat.

Maxie shrugs and continues. “The steam in this cave is full of minerals and—”

“Nerd,” Archie and Ghetsis huff. Giovanni has no argument there.

“I think it’s quite fascinating,” Cyrus sighs as he repeatedly brushes the hair from his eyes.

“Thank you, Cyrus.” Maxie shoots a glare at the other occupants in the cart. They’re too busy trying not to pass out from this suffocating heat to pay him any mind.

“I thought I heard something stirring back there,” Lysandre says out of the blue. “Something was rumbling.”

“It was nothing,” the men snap a little too quickly.

The cart hits a ramp and beings to rise. Giovanni exhales sharply through his teeth. He keeps his attention to the protruding knuckles in his hands.

“Do you like bread, Giovanni?” _Huh…? What the hell?_ Giovanni snaps his head to the professor on his left.

“Huh?”

Cyrus’s brows furrow. “Do you like bread?”

Giovanni blinks. “Erm… yes?”

Cyrus nods. “I often make poffins back home. They’re delicacies specific to the Sinnoh region. Poffin techniques depend on the area, so my poffins might have a bitter tang to them.” He looks at Giovanni. “What would you prefer? Bitter, sweet, sour, dry, or spicy?”

 _Just_ where _is he going with this? What the hell is going on?! Did the heat get to the brat’s head?_ “Erm… spicy? I suppose?”

“I see. When I have the chance, I’ll bring you some. I hope you won’t mind.”

In all his life as a Professor in the most prestigious university of the land and as a Leader of the biggest… _backstage_ organization, Giovanni had heard and seen the most outlandish of scenarios. He’d seen _things._ But right now, he doesn’t know how the _hell_ to react to such a simple question from his colleague.

Cyrus tilts his head. “My student told me that if something’s on your mind, you think of food. He said that food always helped him refocus in dire times.”

Giovanni’s jaw drops. He glances over his shoulder to find that yes, they have in fact traversed over the treacherous climb and is now skimming across a body of water. He looks back at Cyrus, who simply regards him with unreadable eyes.

“Thanks, kid,” Giovanni mutters.

“Of course. Oh. Giovann?”

“Hm?”

“I am twenty-seven years old.”

Giovanni laughs. Ghetsis shoots him a glare. “What’s so funny?”

“Your face,” Giovanni chirps and Ghetsis fumes. Cyrus turns back to his surroundings with a pressed indention in the corners of his mouth.

“I am going to bury you by my own hand when we get down, Archie,” Maxie is grumbling. “You told me there was no drop—”

“It’s just a little climb, nerd!”

Lysandre clears his throat. “Yes… but what goes up but eventually come down.”

Giovanni hisses, “Silence!” much to Ghetsis’s amusement.

The six men have now entered a lake of some sorts. Stars sparkle in the sky. Multicolored lights pulse from the bottom of the lake to give the water an ethereal glow.

“Is it nighttime already?” Lysandre gasps.

Ghetsis checks his watch. “No,” he and Giovanni reply. They immediately clench their teeth and fists.

The nebula glimmers in Cyrus’s bright eyes. “Fascinating. There are tracks on the surface of the water. Oh. Look at this, Giovanni, Ghetsis. There’s the Gyrados Constellation. The Milotic Star is just on the left. The Odd Keystone Formation…”

“Maxie! Look at all those Volbeat and Illumise!”

“Who would expect to see a lake on a plateau so high up?” Ghetsis clicks his teeth with badly disguised awe.

Giovanni leans forward as the cart glides to a brilliant green glow in the center of the lake. “Wait a minute. Hey, Cyrus. Isn’t that the same design on the shirts? The gears?”

“They’re called ‘Time Gears,’” Lysandre chuckles from the back. “They’re the mascots of the Theme Park. To think that there is a Time Gear in the bottom of the lake? Why, they’ve outdone themselves!”

A shimmering fountain of water erupts from the green radiance. Combined with the illumination from the Gear and the lights from Illumise and Volbeat, the sight is certainly—

“Beautiful,” Lysandre utters and finishes everyone’s thoughts. “The very vision of beauty! Everyone! The treasure… the treasure must be view of Fogbound Lake!”

“This is LIT!” Archie roars. Lysandre laughs heartily. Maxie huffs with a smile on his lips. Cyrus hums, his fingers drumming across the rails. Ghetsis shrugs, but he’s not frowning. Giovanni listens to his colleagues’ contentment and chuckles.

And then the cart begins to move. “We need to take a picture,” Lysandre says. “I want a souvenir of everyone before we leave.”

“You read my mind, Lion-man!” Archie bellows. Giovanni is about to say something when the cart stops. A cold feeling settles into his stomach… the same trepidation outside Waterfall Cave… the same terror from when they climbed up to this Fogbound Lake.

“Archie?”

“Y-yes, Maxie?”

“You promised me there wasn’t going to be any drops.”

“U-uh… d-did I? Haha… Well… it’s also my first time on the ride, too…”

The sky is so dark that Giovanni can’t make out the bottom… or if there’s even a bottom. The cart tips haphazardly. He hears a collective prayer from some members in the cart. Giovanni casts his ballot before they drop into the abyss below.

“AAAARCCCHIEEE!” Giovanni and Maxie scream through the raging wind.

“ACK! MY EYE! MY LEG! SOMEONE WILL _PAY_!!”

Lysandre whimpers and tucks his head in as tight as he can. He’s certain that this is a 90 degree drop. They are reaching speeds of approximately 89 kmp, or in Ghetsis’ case, approximately 55 mph.

The cart breaks through the fog. A cactus rolls into view. More cacti. Rocks. Sand. Sand everywhere. Sand landing into Giovanni’s eyes.

“AUGH!” Ghetsis roars when the cart brushes against a cactus.

No one is prepared when the cart dives headfirst into an ocean of quicksand. Fortunately, a plastic cover rose up just in time to deflect the onslaught of sand. Unfortunately, the cart continues to plummet through the desert until it crashes into a tall, sturdy crystal. The unfortunate occupants would have flown from their seats if not for the handy seatbelts.

A hush settles over the party. The cart casually rumbles out of Crystal Cave and back into familiar territory: Treasure Town. By then, Giovanni had regained consciousness and is plotting ways to make Archie’s life as miserable as possible.

“D-Don’t worry, friends!” A rattled Archie laughs a bit too loudly. No one returns his mirth. “That’s all! Look! We’re back where we started! The ride’s over, everyone!”

Ghetsis jams his cane into his side of the cart. He struggles against his harness. “We are still locked in.”

“Maybe the ride’s broken?”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Maxie snaps. “Not after everything we’ve been through!”

“Be quiet!” Giovanni explodes. “All of you! I’ve had enough of this nonsense! I knew I should’ve stayed home!”

Ghetsis’s lips twist into a snarl. “Now _there_ ’s something we can both agree on!”

Lysandre meekly waves his hands. “Now, now gentlemen. Please don’t quarrel over some silly notion. What’s done is done. Let’s just all keep our heads until the ride releases us.”

Just as he finishes speaking, a giant wormhole blinks into existence. All six colleagues exchange a glance before the void inhales the cart into its vacuum. Multiple professors scream as they zoom through the very fabric of time and space itself at what can only be described as the speed of light.

“See, Cyrus?” Archie yelps. “Told ‘ya there was time travelelelele--!”

But Cyrus is too occupied with keeping his eyes shut to respond.

The portal spits the occupants out on another stage. Giovanni immediately has the feeling that something is horribly, horribly wrong. This time, there are no lights or cheesy displays. No flashy backgrounds or water or sand or crystals. Instead, there’s just… darkness.

“Is that a floating tree?” Maxie sputters. It’s true: the tree in question is a gnarled shell of its former self, its roots splayed about in the air… as if it had been mutilated.

“That’s not possible,” Ghetsis says with narrowed eyes. He swipes at a rock in midair. It shatters to dust under the mercy of his cane. “They took this straight from a nightmare.”

“These are not holograms,” Lysandre whispers as they pass a waterfall that no longer flows.

“A world of darkness,” Cyrus murmurs. “A world where time had come to a complete halt.”

Giovanni laughs. He laughs so hard that tears actually spring from his eyes. “Lighten up, Cyrus! This is a children’s place, for Mew’s sake! There’s no way… you can’t have a place where time actually stands still!”

But judging from Cyrus’s grim expression, such a thing has become a reality.

Archie suddenly shivers. “Did it suddenly drop ten degrees in here?”

“N-now that you mention it, I do feel a slight chill.” And it’s not from his drenched clothes, now covered in salt water, sulfur water, condensation, and sweat. A repulsive concoction of moisture.

_**GRRR-OOOOOOH!**_

A shadow falls over the cart. Through the surging blood in his ears, Giovanni manages to crane his neck up to see the towering Pokemon with eyes as red as blood. The diamond in its chest pulsates with a dangerous light.

“Dialga,” Cyrus gasps. “The Pokemon that governs time, according to Sinnoh mythology! And yet, this one appears to be diff—”

Ghetsis pushes Cyrus’s head down before a rock the size of Giovanni’s fist slams into Cyrus’s seat and ricochets off the cart. Dialga roars again, this time summoning a ring of boulders above its head.

“Pay attention, Cyrus!” Ghetsis snaps.

“That is _not_ a hologram!” Panic is leaking into Lysandre’s voice. “We will be killed!”

Maxie thrashes against his seat. “Ohnononononono… Not right now! The Great Maxie? Fall at such a pathetic grave? _No, this is inconceivable!!”_

“Focus, you idiots!” Ghetsis yells. He gropes around for anything that can cut his reinforced seatbelt. Cyrus stares at him with unreadable eyes, but nevertheless offers his assistance.

“We’re gonna die, Maxie!” Archie cries.

“No one is going to die!” Giovanni snarls. “Not on my watch!” A button suddenly pops up near his seat. He smashes it without hesitation.

The cart does a complete 180 and _scrams._

“Press it faster!” Ghetsis barks, hanging onto his seat for dear life.

“Can’t you see that I’m trying?!”

The ground trembles. Giovanni turns around and instantly regrets it. _How fast can this giant mother—-- move?!_ Dialga’s so close that its breath unleashes a blast of hot, sultry air down Giovanni’s tightening flesh.

“Um, Giovanni? I know you’re trying and all, but can you HURRY IT UP?!”

_“BE QUIET, ARCHIE!”_

“WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!” Maxie wheezes.

“HURRY UP, GIOVANNI!” Lysandre snarls.

 _“EVERYONE, SHUT THE HELL UP!”_ Giovanni’s wrist is about to break off. Cyrus lurches over and jams his own fist into the button as well. The cart screeches and catapults into the darkness, carrying the men’s screams and curses.

 _“Hit it Cyrus!”_ Giovanni howls. _“Use those spindly arms of yours!”_

 ** _GRRRR-OOOOOOHHH!_** A boulder narrowly misses Giovanni’s ear.

 _"Focus, Giovanni!”_ Cyrus hisses through ragged breaths. _“We’re almost through!”_

Just as Dialga’s jaw hovers over the cart, Giovanni mashes the button over Cyrus’s hand. The cart gains an insane burst of speed and catapults into the blinding white light. When Giovanni’s eyes adjusted, the cart is shuffling down a ravaged, stony path.

* * *

Cyrus is massaging his trembling hands with unblinking eyes. Giovanni passes a quick apology, but his colleague just shakes his head.

A crumbling tower awaits them in the distance. The clouds are a dark shade of crimson, as if the sky itself is bleeding.

“You saved us,” Archie breathes. He grips Giovanni’s shoulders with more force than the man is comfortable with.

“All right, all right. Don’t start crying.”

Maxie’s eyelids flutter open. “We… we escaped! Oh thank you, mighty Kyogre and Groudon! Thank _you,_ Giovanni! _We’re_ alive! Archie, we’re _alive_!”

“That was no illusion,” Lysandre mutters. “Those rocks were real. I felt that thing’s breath on my neck. You have my thanks, Giovanni.”

Giovanni mutters something about them all owing him something later, but it’s too hot in here to spit out any comprehensible words.

“Stupid park,” Ghetsis grumbles. “Stupid Pokemon. Stupid leg.” He notices Cyrus’s stare. “What? What do you want, freak?”

Cyrus hesitates. “Thank you,” he whispers to his hands. Ghetsis’s jaw drops. All the sarcasm fades from his face. Giovanni raises an eyebrow, but then Ghetsis begins to cough loudly and unnecessarily.

“A-as expected from someone as perfect as I! Y-you _should_ be thanking me! I, the g-great Ghetsis Harmonia, is the complete p-picture of perfec— _Hey!”_ His sudden spike in volume makes everyone jump. _“What is_ that _in the distance? By the dragons of truth and ideals, where are we nooow?!”_

“Calm down already,” Lysandre mutters. Giovanni snorts, much to Ghetsis’s chagrin. The latter refuses to look at any of his colleagues, especially the one sitting in the middle.

 _Where_ are _they?_ The best Giovanni can offer is that they are up in the sky. Somehow, they’ve managed to escape from that horrible place to end up in the damn sky.

Giovanni immediately regrets his decision to look down. _Oh Mew, they’re reeeally high in the sky._ He slumps into his seat and concentrates on his breathing and the prospect of poffins.

“Ah. The air is getting thinner,” Lysandre notes. “I… cannot see anything down there.”

“Maxie, I think we’re in the clouds.”

“No… that’s not possible, Archie. But… but you may be right. Ugh, _why_ do you have to be right at the worst possible times?”

Ghetsis watches a pebble bounce off the tires to plummet to the void below. But it’s better than having to deal with this incredible pressure in his back from the person on his right.

“Open your eyes, Giovanni,” Ghetsis says through gritted teeth.

Giovanni scowls. “I am merely resting my eyes, Harmonia. Why don’t _you_ stop pretending to act all high and mighty? Just tell him that you appreciate the—”

_“Silence!”_

The cart proceeds into the crumbling tower. Somewhere in the distance is the incessant cry of a clock. _Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._ Or… that might’ve been his heart instead.

“I feel like this place is counting down my time,” Maxie mutters in response to the clocks growing more and more relentless. “Like we’re racing against the clock... quite literally.”

“I recall this place as being called ‘Temporal Tower,’” Lysandre tells the group.

“A fitting end,” Giovanni grunts with narrowed eyes. “Wait. T-tower, you said?”

“Erm… yes?”

Maxie buries his face into his hands. Archie chuckles nervously. Giovanni holds his breath as the cart hits the ramp and climbs.

And climbs.

And keeps climbing.

_Damn, how long is this thing going to climb?!_

“Ten minutes,” Ghetsis mutters after a tense silence. Giovanni shoots him a dark, dirty glare. The vertigo hits him the moment he turns his head.

Maxie is hyperventilating. Giovanni would’ve done the same, if not for his damn ego. Archie has to use his best soothing voice to calm his friend. Lysandre has diverted all attention to maintaining a steady pulse.

 _Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Your time is up, Giovanni,_ the clocks taunt.

Giovanni balls his fists. He forces himself to think of poffins… what they would smell like… what they would taste like… how their broken shells will look like when dropped from a waterfall—

 _Oh, Mew._ He sheepishly opens his eyes. _They’re still going up. At almost a 90 angle._

Cyrus is completely still, almost rigidly so. He’s so stiff that he’ll shatter with one touch. His lips are buzzing again. _“timestartedtospinspacebegantoexpandthetwobeingswishedthethreebeingswishedmattercametobespiritcametobe—”_ His hands are trembling as much as Giovanni’s stomach is heaving.

“Don’t you dare pass out on me,” Ghetsis hisses, looking directly at Giovanni.

“W-who do you think I am? I am Giovanni! I was a Gym Leader, not a mere nobody!”

The cart slowly and painfully lands on flat ground. The clouds are indeed crimson as blood. The sky is bruised and battered. A bolt of lightning strikes the pillars right beside the cart, sending everyone into a violent jolt.

Cyrus snaps back to reality. He buries his face into his palms and keeps it there.

Giovanni opens his mouth when someone screams. It could’ve been him. It could’ve been Maxie. Hopefully it was Maxie.

Dialga stares back at the six men with the same murderous eyes. Giovanni and Ghetsis instantly moves to Cyrus while Archie and Lysandre hold Maxie in place.

And to everyone’s shock, what comes from Dialga’s mouth isn’t a blast of death, but words. Tinny, metallic words: “YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF SHARPEDO BLUFF. I CONGRATULATE YOU, BRAVE HUMANS, FOR SURVIVING THAT ORDEAL.”

Ghetsis swings his cane, only for Giovanni to grab it and yell at him to control himself.

“YOUR ADVENTURE IS ALMOST AT AN END. TEMPORAL SPIRE IS THE PENULTIMATE LOCATION. ONCE YOU LEAVE, YOU WILL RETURN TO THE PLACE OF BEGINNINGS.”

The men glance at each other. _Oh, sweet merciful Mew! Is this true? This is really happening! The damn ride is finally over! They’ll finally go home!!_

Dialga bows. Ghetsis waves his cane angrily as they pass under the Pokemon. Then the cart stops at the edge of the Temporal Spire.

“Archie?” Maxie says.

“Y-yes?”

“I don’t see tracks. All I see… is the sky.” Maxie gives his friend a flat, chilling grin. “I don’t see a comprehensible way down, Archie.”

“Yes, Archie,” Lysandre deadpans. “We are peering over the ledge to nothing but the clouds below.”

“It took us only twenty minutes to climb up here,” Ghetsis adds in a low rumble.

Giovanni gives a thin smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well? Archie?”

The man in question redirects his gaze elsewhere. “W-why are you all asking me? It’s also my first time here…”

“The front wheels are tipping.” An edge had crept into Cyrus’s normally flat stoic voice. This change in character terrifies even the hardiest professors. Yes, the front wheels are _indeed_ tipping. There is open air under the axles.

Archie decides that now is an appropriate time to release an F-bomb. Giovanni follows suit before the cart plummets from the tower in the sky.

* * *

* * *

“The park is closing in thirty minutes. Please start heading for the nearest exits. Thank you for coming to Treasure Town Theme Park!”

* * *

“The park is closing in ten minutes. Please start heading for the nearest exits. Thank you for coming to Treasure Town Theme Park!”

* * *

“The park is now closed! Please head for the nearest exits. Thank you for coming to Treasure Town Theme Park. We’ll be open first thing tomorrow morning!”

An attendant cautiously approaches the mismatched group of college professors. “U-um… excuse me, gentlemen. The park is now closed.”

Ghetsis stiffly raises his head. “I’m not deaf, for the sixtieth time!” All the strength to fuel his derision had been sapped from his body. Right now, he just sounds like another grumpy old man.

“Eep! U-um… would you l-like me to take you to the Pokemon center? They never close…”

The thought of Nurse Joy and all her incarnations and reincarnations is enough to bring Giovanni back to the world of the living. He struggles to his feet. _Good._ He still has his hair. His arms. His money. His spine.

_Oh. Has it been this late?_ There’s almost no one left in the part except for a few haggling students… and the six professors strewn about all over the ground.

“What the hell happened?” Giovanni croaks. His throat is as parched as a desert. All he remembers is a splitting headache. His heart climbing to his head. Clouds. Screaming. Lots of screaming.

Ghetsis looks just as overwhelmed. 

The attendant fidgets. “Um… you all finished the ride and just collapsed here. We weren’t sure if it was safe to move you.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Giovanni grunts. Ghetsis holds out his hand with a faint scowl. Giovanni tugs it until a “pop” crackles through the air. Ghetsis hisses but pulls on Giovanni’s outstretched arm. The pain is a blissful slap to reality as he messages his sore muscles.

The attendant has been staring at the two men with wide eyes. Ghetsis arcs an eyebrow, and she squeaks and scampers away.

“Wake the others.” Ghetsis juts his chin at the mess on the ground. Giovanni’s too tired to protest.

Cyrus is a crumpled ball in the corner. His head is buried into his knees, his arms wrapped around his legs like a straightjacket. He’s not moving. Giovanni approaches with utmost caution. “Cyrus. Cyrus, kid. Wake up. Let’s go home.” Giovanni gingerly pokes his hair. The risk of the brat shattering before his eyes is just too great.

Lysandre is sprawled on the bench, his eyes open and glassy. He must’ve been in a very low state of mind to put his head where a person’s ass had been. Ghetsis pokes Lysandre with his cane. “Wake up. Or I’m going to steal your Pyroar.” Lysandre chokes on his spit.

Ghetsis grits his teeth as he heaves the unconscious Archie from Maxie. The fish-fanatic was crushing his friend like a boulder on top of an ant. Ghetsis immediately drops Archie when the latter’s sweat and moisture begins seeping into the former’s skin.

“Wake up!” Ghetsis jabs his cane into Archie’s stomach. Archie releases a thundering yell. Maxie twitches. Ghetsis’s hand hovers over Hydreigon’s Poke ball, but he moves to kick Maxie’s spindly kneecaps instead. Maxie yelps. “Wake up!” Ghetsis roars into the nerd’s ear.

Meanwhile, Giovanni is slowly prying Cyrus’s cold, dead fingers from his leg. “Kid. Cyrus.”

_“G… Grandfather?”_

“ _What?!_ Hell no! I’m not that old!” Giovanni hauls Cyrus to his feet and gives him a good shake. Cyrus’s head snaps up with a painful gasp. “Take that back, you idiot! I am _no one’s_ grandfather!!”

Cyrus shakes his head. “Gra… _Giovanni?”_

Giovanni forces a smile. “Welcome back to earth, brat.”

Ghetsis shuffles to the two with a quizzical look on his face. “Cyrus awake?” he grunts.

Giovanni squints. “I think so. Everyone else good?”

“Their brains are intact.”

Giovanni hurries to help his fallen colleagues. He shudders at Archie’s clammy paw. _Who the hell sweats this much?_ Lysandre politely declines his offer of help. Maxie offers no resistance as Giovanni hoists this featherweight to his feet. Cyrus stares at his Giovanni’s hand before silently accepting it.

“I get it,” Ghetsis is grumbling to the gawking park attendants. “We’re leaving. Stop staring already.”

“Men.” Giovanni digs his fists into his soaked pockets. “Let’s go home. But be forwarned that the bathroom is _mine_.”

“What about me, Monsieur Giovanni?”

“Have your cat lick you or something.”

“H-hey, Maxie. You’re not mad, right?”

“Egh. Just… just be quiet, Archie. I need to lie down.”

“Stupid fine print. I can’t sue this tourist trap because of the stupid waiver on the tickets and all that nonsense…”

The professors pass the photo booth. A park attendant greets them with a cavity-inducing grin. “Oh, gentlemen! Would you like to purchase your photos before you go? Only 3000 Poke!”

 _Oh, Mew. Is that really how Giovanni looked like?_ There’s the accursed moment at Waterfall Cave… Mt. Bristle… Somehow the camera caught the men at Foggy Forest. There’s Fogbound Lake. The drop(s). Dialga’s chase. The climb and fall of Temporal Tower. Giovanni squints at the last photo in disbelief. Apparently, both him and Ghetsis had the idea of putting their hands on Cyrus’s head to prevent the squirt from flying out of his seat.

 _“Hell no!”_ everyone snaps. The part attendant’s grin sours. The professors grumble amongst each other and hurry back to the parking lot.

“Thank Groudon it’s still Spring Break,” Maxie murmurs and garners assent.

Giovanni rummages for his keys. He sighs, “I’ll have the car steam-cleaned in the morning.”

Lysandre glances back. “Wait, everyone. Where is Cyrus?” The men look at each other in alarm. While the park lights are still on, there’s still a lot of ground to cover. This place is like a _fortress._

But before anyone can act on Giovanni’s impromptu plan, Cyrus walks up to the group. There’s a clear envelope in his hands.

“Cyrus!” Archie says. “You had us all worried! Did you get lost?”

“No. I went back for something.”

Ghetsis growls, “What could be so important in this tourist trap?”

Cyrus shows the group the contents of his bag. “These. I would like to keep these photos as a souvenir.”

* * *

Giovanni switches to his low-beams as they reach city limits. He dims the interior lights. His eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, and he chuckles softly to himself.

“Everyone’s asleep,” he tells Cyrus. “You’re tired too, right? Get a quick shut-eye. I’ll wake you up when we get home.”

Cyrus raises his head from his photos. “I sat in front to keep you awake, Giovanni. It is dangerous if you fall asleep behind the wheel.”

Giovanni grunts, but his ears are tingling. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The car rolls down the streets in peaceful silence. Archie snorts, causing Maxie to stir into his friend’s shoulders. Ghetsis grumbles in his sleep as Lysandre’s head slides down to his lap.

“Remember to change your clothes,” Cyrus says, his gaze affixed to the stars in the sky. The moon is bright and white. “Hypothermia is a silent killer.”

“Yes, yes.” Despite the hell that he’d endured today, Giovanni lets a small smile fall on his lips.

Cyrus shifts his attention back to the driver. “Did you enjoy yourself, Giovanni?”

“Yes,” he replies, surprising even himself. “I got some nice gifts for my son, even though it almost costed me my life.” He smirks. “How about you? You had fun?”

Cyrus stares at his photos. “Yes,” he says after a pause. “I had… fun.”

Giovanni grins. He extends his free hand and pats his colleague’s head. Cyrus stiffens. “Glad to see you enjoying yourself, kid.”

Cyrus’s expression softens, but then his brows furrow. “Giovanni?”

“Yes?”

“I am twenty-seven years old.”

Giovanni laughs as he musses Cyrus’s hair. “I know.”

* * *

Cyrus displays his photos—his souvenirs—on the ivory mantle place usually reserved for other occasions. He keeps them free of dust and scratches. 

The mantle place quickly becomes a local attraction. Lysandre will rub his chin as he recounts his exploits with embellishment. Archie will tease Maxie about his foaming mouth and boneless moments. Maxie will huff, but he takes everything in good stride. In fact, he insists that the experience was a fitting trial for someone as heroic as the Great Maxie. Everyone usually rolls their eyes, though.

Cyrus says little about his photos, but his eyes will linger for a while longer on the drop at Temporal Tower—the moment when Giovanni and Ghetsis had their hands on his head. He absently touches that spot with the faintest lift of his lips.

Speaking of Ghetsis, Giovanni will often see the man loiter around the photos if the living room is empty. Ghetsis will stop, look around, and hum as he peruses through those souvenirs.

And of course, Ghetsis will deny everything if Giovanni dares to bring it up. 


	6. Winter Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giovanni’s roommates go home for the holidays.

Winter Break. Two glorious, paid weeks of not putting up with nosy brats or lofty faculty slithering up to him because of his family connections. Those faulty student evaluations won’t be touched until the next academic quarter.

The weather is cold. Giovanni has everything he needs at home: his Persian. Money. Imported cacao beans. Blankets made from the finest down of an Altaria.

“Are you forgetting anything, Archie?”

Giovanni watches as Archie recounts his luggage with his fingers. _Ah. That’s right._ His roommates are going home, back to their respective regions. Two weeks with the house to himself, as it rightfully should’ve been. _Finally. Calm and quiet._

“Calm and quiet,” he repeats for no reason. “Me time. Two whole weeks.”

“I don’t think so, Maxie.” Archie places his Kyogre plushie over his neck.

Maxie’s eyes widen. “Archie, you’re not a child anymore. Don’t lug that stuffed toy out and about in public.”

“But you got this for me as a gift, remember, Maxie? You also kept the Groudon plush I got for you in your room.”

Maxie’s face flushes as red as his coat. He rushes to his friend and clamps a hand over his mouth. _“Archie!”_ It sounds more of a plea than a threat.

“I think it’s a sweet gesture,” Lysandre says. Giovanni rolls his eyes. The Lion-man pats his numerous designer-brand briefcases. Giovanni recognizes most names, but there are some logos he’d never seen before. If possible, Lysandre’s leaving with more luggage than when he first arrived.

_Huh._ It feels like yesterday when these idiots invaded his house. And now they’re leaving--

_No, you fool! They’re coming back after two weeks!_

“Children, Ghetsis growls. “All impudent children.” He hits his cane against Giovanni’s recently waxed floor. The latter shoots Ghetsis a dirty eyeball to which he deflects with a smirk. His luggage(s) look(s) suspiciously like his Confagrigus. “What a relief to leave this overrated shoebox.”

“This is a deluxe townhouse,” Giovanni says with a tight smile.

Ghetsis raises a thick eyebrow. “Oh? Wow, really? _You could’ve fooled me.”_

Cyrus shuffles into the foyer with his luggage. He’s decked for the blizzard with a heavy trench coat, scarf, and gloves.

“Is that all you’re bringing, Cyrus?” Giovanni juts his chin to the lone briefcase.

“Yes.” Cyrus proceeds to tie his scarf. “You’re not going back to Kanto, Giovanni?”

Giovanni almost chokes on his _cioccolata calda,_ his hot chocolate. “N-no. No, I’ll be here for the entirety of the break. I’ll finally enjoy some peace and quiet.”

“We’re gonna miss you, Giovanni,” Archie says with wet eyes.

“It’s just two weeks,” the owner of the house mutters into his cup. “It’s… it’s not farewell, Archie.”

“I’ll admit that I will miss this place.” Maxie looks around the house with a small smile. Giovanni’s chest tightens. “You’ve been an excellent host, Giovanni.”

Lysandre nods. “Yes. Excellent sense of décor. You’re a paragon of taste, power, and leadership. Just like me! _C’est magnifique!_ How magnificent!”

“Yes.” Cyrus’s usual cold mask softens ever so slightly. “Since accepting this proposal, I’ve been able to experience many new things I wouldn’t normally have a chance to do.”

Everyone looks at Ghetsis, who coughs loudly and unnecessarily. “I can hardly care less.” The Lettuce-man’s insult is devoid of its usual smugness.

Giovanni mutters something back and returns to his checkbook. He swallows the dry lump that’s been building in his throat. His roommates resume their quiet racket as they recheck baggage, tickets, and money.

“Okay!” Archie’s voice jars Giovanni from his thoughts. “Maxie and I are good. Do y’all need a taxi? We can split the cost.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Ghetsis grunts. “Or we can take a shuttle.”

Giovanni stands. He ambles to the closet to retrieve his fedora and coat.

“Where are you going, Giovanni?” Lysandre says.

“You need a ride, right?” Giovanni nonchalantly swings his keys. “You don’t want to be late. Hurry up.”

* * *

Cyrus places the money into his hands. Giovanni blinks and gives the younger man a look of disbelief. “Gas money,” Cyrus says in the monotone that Giovanni had grown so used to hearing.

“Ahem. Cyrus. I don’t want your money.”

“ _Take it.”_ Giovanni winces slightly at the cold finality in Cyrus’s voice. Almost like a command.

“Fine. But I’ll treat you when you return. No. _Don’t you dare talk back to me, brat.”_

Cyrus raises a brow. Then the others emerge from the washroom with renewed vigor. The six men walk in silence to the center of the terminal. The airport is especially crowded during the start of Winter Break.

“Oh! Maxie! That’s our flight!” Archie waves his ticket. “It’s boarding right now!”

“Let’s go then! I’m not sitting near the restroom again! Why, the last fool who used it never flushed, and…” Maxie shivers from the traumatic memory. He straightens and turns to his colleagues. “Goodbye, professors! The Great Maxie will return after the break!”

“So will the Awesome Archie!” Archie flashes a bright grin. Maxie laughs and waves. Archie waves. Everyone waves back. The two friends turn and hurry down the hallway, their plushies bouncing around their necks.

“I miss them already,” Lysandre sighs when the two men disappear into the sea of people. Then he snaps his fingers. “Ah. Now that’s my flight. Farewell, gentlemen. I shall take my leave.”

Cyrus nods. “Have a safe journey, Lysandre.” The businessman smiles. He moves to give Cyrus an air-hug, much to the latter’s surprise. Lysandre squeezes Giovanni’s back and even traps an unwilling Ghetsis into an embrace.

_“Adieu!”_ Lysandre bows and blows them all a kiss. Giovanni watches as the red mane of hair fade into the crowd of colors.

Cyrus stares down at his hands. His eyes dart to the spot where Lysandre had been not a second ago. Some complex equation seems to unravel in his brain.

Ghetsis had reached for a bag of peanuts and is now chewing loudly. Giovanni glares at him to shut up. Ghetsis responds with a smirk. Then he edges the peanuts towards Cyrus with a grunt. Cyrus measures the invitation with guarded eyes before reluctantly plucking a small shell.

“Thank you, Ghetsis,” Cyrus says as he nibbles on the seed.

“Whatever. Just don’t faint on your flight back home.” Ghetsis scowls when Giovanni snorts. The two rivals prepare for another verbal war when Cyrus speaks.

“No, you’re right. That would be a waste of their time and mine.” Then he grasps his briefcase. “My flight is here. I’ll take my leave now.” He gives the two older men a slight nod. “Giovanni. Ghetsis. Stay warm over the break.”

“Of course. Wait, Cyrus. Your scarf is loose. Hold still.”

“A-ah. Thank you, Giovanni.”

“Well, you messed up! _Surprise!_ That’s not how you tie a scarf, you buffoon! Stand aside!”

Giovanni clenches his teeth. “No, _you’re_ the one that’s choking him! It’s an _overhand,_ Lettuce-Head! Have you gone senile already?”

Ghetsis’s face flushes. “Coming from a decrepit old man like you? I should take that as a compliment! I’ve more experience tying scarves while you’re covering your eyes because of a silly drop in elevation!”

“W-what did you say? I dare you to repeat that again, you oversized ve—”

Cyrus clears his throat. The two men stop immediately. Their colleague fidgets the intricate knot in his scarf while his eyes remain downcast. “I have to go.” Cyrus’s voice is small. “I cannot afford to be late for my flight.”

But before he leaves, Cyrus turns. “Thank you. Both of you.”

The two senior professors watch as the fourth roommate fade into the shifting mass of travelers. Then they look at each other with frowns. Before Giovanni can have the last word, Ghetsis clicks his tongue.

“I should’ve bought the Business class,” he mutters. “But I can’t stand the sight of their pompous faces. They think they’re better than the rest of the Economic peasants, eh? If I don’t hurry, stupid Economy class will run out of seats. I do _not_ want to sit next to a crying infant again.”

Giovanni crosses his arms. “It’s only a little more leg room if you upgrade. Certainly isn’t worth your money.”

“Exactly. And the food? Who are they fooling? I dare not _touch_ the complimentary water that they offer.”

“Indeed. Now, I should warn you about the meat. They _say_ it’s meat. The captain _assures_ you that it’s meat. But it’s not. I’ve seen how the airplane industry operates. ‘Food’ isn’t _food.”_

Ghetsis nods grimly. “That makes sense. I got the runs after eating their ‘fish stew’ on a flight to Hoenn once.”

Giovanni sighs sympathetically. “Now _that’s_ a first. Reminds me of the time I got food poisoning from—”

“THE FLIGHT TO UNOVA IS NOW BOARDING. PASSENGERS PLEASE PROCEED TO GATE 14.”

Ghetsis shoots a glare at his rival. Giovanni glowers back. The two exchange a silent insult before Ghetsis curls his good hand and points to Giovanni. “You better not die in your sleep,” the Lettuce-man hisses.

“Try not to pass into a coma on the way back to Unova,” is the exasperated reply.

Ghetsis smirks. Giovanni scoffs. The three wisps of green hair push into the crowd until they get swallowed by the relentless wave of people.

Giovanni grips his car keys. The airport is bustling with the cacophony of chatter, exhaustion, and winter joy.

* * *

Giovanni doesn’t know _why_ he hesitates upon touching the doorknob. He doesn’t know _why_ he proceeds carefully into his own home as if he’ll disturb his roommates.

Persian greets him cheerfully. The cat slinks to his legs and rubs her face against his arms. Giovanni chuckles. He changes into casual wear, slips on his golden woolen robe, brews a cup of imported cocoa, and settles on the loveseat with Persian at his side.

“It’s just me and you for two weeks, Persian.” Giovanni’s lone voice echoes through his house. Persian grins. “No one to shatter the blissful peace of the household.”

_Yes. No one to shatter the peace for two weeks_. And that’s exactly how Giovanni’s Winter Break unfolds.

* * *

It’s been a week since his roommates moved out. _No—when they returned home for the holidays._

They house is quiet. His blood pressure is kept in check. No Archie or Maxie to wake him up in the night with their pointless arguments. No Cyrus to unnerve him with those unreadable eyes. No Ghetsis to make his blood boil. No Lysandre to take up his precious restroom time.

Yes. He has the whole house to himself. That’s how it should be.

Giovanni passes by the mantlepiece for the hundredth time. Those photos from Treasure Town Theme Park stare back at him. He glanced at them more times this week than in a whole year. He also took it upon himself to keep Cyrus’s souvenirs in a presentable state. He owes the brat for the gas money, anyhow.

Giovanni wanders to the window. Snow falls from the bruised, grey skies. He breathes into the frost-etched glass and draws an “R” with his finger. Then he draws an “A.” An “M.” “G.” “P.” “F.” The letters stand proudly and firmly next to the other. Then Persian meows, and Giovanni wipes a hand through his shameful moment of weakness.

Giovanni storms to the kitchen. There’s still the risotto from yesterday. He can order to-go again, but the dangers of hidden sodium and sugar sours that option immediately. He moves to the fridge and grabs Maxie’s yogurt. _That nerd won’t be needing it anymore._

The yogurt is disgusting. _Who the heck likes cherry, anyways?!_ Giovanni mindlessly scoops the slop as he paces down the hallway. Their doors remain closed. Giovanni, being the generous host that he is, respected their privacy. Why, he’s so merciful that he left Ghetsis’s door untouched.

_Oh. They still have their nameplates. That means they’re coming back._ Giovanni slaps himself before he can wallow deeper into this pathetic pit of embarrassment. 

His phone rings. Classic bossa nova. Giovanni lunges for the phone, only for his hopes to flicker and die.

_“So you’re not coming home, old man?”_ the bitter voice wedges a nail into his heart. But the brat doesn’t sound angry. No, he sounds disappointed, and rightfully so.

“No,” Giovanni mutters.

_“Mom’s making baccala_ _̀_ _. Salted cod's your favorite.”_

Giovanni breathes through his teeth. The silver ring feels like it's about to bite off his finger. “Silver. I already told you. It’s complicated--” 

_ “Oh this again. I’m already in college! I’m not a little kid anymore, Father! Why are both of you making this harder than it needs to be?” _

“Silver!” Persian jolts at Giovanni’s rise in volume. He slowly unclenches his fingers with a soft hiss. The other line is silent.

_ “Mom said to wish you Happy Yuletide,”  _ comes the quiet voice.  _ “You need me to deliver anything?” _

Giovanni exhales again. Persian gently reminds him to loosen his shoulders. “Bundle up,” he grunts. “Hypothermia is a silent killer.”

Silence. A very faint rasp of voice, an awkward impasse between a laugh and a scowl.  _ “Okay, Father. Happy Holidays.” _

“You too, Silver.”

_ “Bye.” _

“Yes. Bye.” The other line holds its breath before dying in a flat tone. Persian stares at her master with guarded eyes. Giovanni slams the phone down and storms into his room, his footprints marring the gleam of his recently waxed floor.

* * *

When the phone rings again, Giovanni lets it cry for a while before gingerly picking up. He waits with bated breath.

_ “Hello, Giovanni.”  _ All the trepidation melts into what can only be described as sheer relief.

“Maxie?!” Giovanni blurts a bit too loudly.

Maxie laughs.  _ “Well, aren’t  _ you  _ excited to hear me. Archie’s here too.” _

_ “Gio!”  _ comes the booming voice of the environmental extremist.  _ “How’ve you been? Have a relaxing first week of Winter Break?” _

Giovanni rubs his eyes. “Yes. It’s been… quiet.”

_ "I hope we’re not interrupting anything,”  _ Maxie says.  _ “I know you want your alone time. We’ll make this quick and--” _

“N-no,” Giovanni breathes. He steadies a hand over his chest. “It’s fine. I can make time.”

A silence. Giovanni envisions the two friends shooting a glance to each other. Then Archie speaks,  _ “I’ve been hanging out with my old crew. We went to eat this Sinnoh-inspired BBQ place the other day. I’ll take you around and show you someday, Gio.” _

Giovanni’s lips tug. “I might take you up on that offer, Archie. What about you, Maxie? Anything noteworthy?”

Maxie chuckles.  _ “Well, while Archie’s out with his Save-the-Shore crew, I’ve been conducting dirt samples with my team. It’s easier to extract ground from Mt. Chimney this time of year because of erosion and…” _

Under normal circumstances, Giovanni would’ve nodded off or tuned Maxie’s ramblings out as nerd-talk. But here he is, listening and asking questions to Maxie’s fascinating lecture of sedimentary rocks, tectonic plates, and topsoil.

_ “How are you doing, Giovanni?”  _ Archie says. Giovanni hesitates. His gaze falls to the ring. Persian nibbles on his leg.

“Relaxing,” is the muted reply.

_ “Oh. Well, that’s great too! Yeah, remember to take it easy. I imagine you have a lot on your plate, Gio.” _

Someone barks in the distance.  _ “Yes, yes, we’re coming!”  _ Maxie yells. The line crackles.  _ “Tell Courtney to wait outside with Matt and Shelly! Yes, Tabitha,  _ right now _ right now!” _

“Where are you going?” Giovanni mutters. 

_ “Hot pot!”  _ Archie replies, and Giovanni envisions that grin.  _ “Me and Maxie’s team are gonna hit up this tofu-hot pot place. Five Starly out of five on Shriek.com.” _

Giovanni nods, despite there being on one to see him. “Okay. Well… have fun, you two.”

_ “Thank you, Giovanni,”  _ Maxie hums.  _ “We just wanted to check in on you. We’ll try not to bother you so much next time.” _

“Oh. N-no. It’s fine--” But Giovanni’s words is cut by a loud honking. Archie yells something about patience. Maxie grumbles about hot-headed environmental extremists. The line warbles and then flat-tones.

Giovanni sets the phone down after a minute of dead air. He sinks back into his loveseat. Persian nuzzles his leg, so he brings the cat to his lap and scratches her ears as the snow continues to fall.

* * *

_ Ring!  _ Giovanni’s hand flies to the phone before it dares to cry again.

_ “Monsieur Giovanni!” _

“L-Lysandre?”

_ “Yes. It is I. How are you, my friend?” _

Giovanni sits back down his loveseat. He focuses on his breathing. “I am fine. Just relaxing at home.”

_ “Ah. Yes. The snow is beautiful, non? Do you like this weather, Giovanni?” _

“I suppose it’s tolerable.”

_ “Mmm. Well… you should visit Kalos someday. We have a beautiful topiary garden that’s converted into a snow sculpture showcase in the winter. There’s no entrance fee, so it might be worth your consideration.” _

Giovanni laughs. “Sure. Thanks for the invitation. How are you, Lysandre?”

_ “Oh, the best! I am sampling winter delicacies around the region. This ‘Kanto mochi’ reminds me of you, mon ami, my friend. Why, I’ve never imagined that rice and red bean would mash so well together.” _

Giovanni listens to Lysandre’s food musings with a small smile. The man has numerous ways to praise the same thing. He rambles on and on about the local culinary delights that he has yet to try, never stopping to catch a breath even once.

The line crackles and interrupts his monologue.  _ “Ah? Yes, Augustine. I heard you. I’ll be there soon. Tell Diantha that I’ll be driving.”  _ A sigh.  _ “Yes...Yes, you can take shotgun. Diantha rode it last time.” _

“Going somewhere, Lysandre?” Giovanni squeaks.

_ “Yes. We’re going to see the musical adaptation of ‘The Ultimate Weapon.’ Should be an intriguing performance nevertheless.”  _ A pause.  _ “Are you all right? You sound a bit faint.” _

Giovanni clears his throat. “Y-yes. Well. Have fun then.”

_ “Thank you, Monsieur! I’ll keep our calls short next time. Adieu!” _

“W-wait, that’s fine--” But his words fall against the flat tone.

* * *

The next call is a suspicious one. Giovanni hesitates before picking up the phone and doesn’t speak until the speaker speaks.

_ “Old man,”  _ comes the awkward groan.

“Fossil,” is the hesitant reply. A silence. A loud, unnecessary cough bounces across the air. 

_ “So you’re still alive.” _

“Of course. I presume you have a foot in the dirt already?”

An obnoxious snort.  _ “I see your brain’s still intact if you can spit out insults like that.” _

Giovanni’s lips twist. “So? What is it? You lonely? Fed up with the monotony of assisted living?”

_ “Silence, you impudent mongrel! I’ll have you know that I am in my own castle in Unova!” _

“C-castle? Hey, is something wrong with your brain again?”

An exaggerated sigh.  _ “As usual, I wouldn’t expect someone of your age to understand the pleasures of life. While you’re stuck in your pathetic matchbox, I’ve been enjoying music and theatre.” _

Giovanni runs his tongue over his teeth. “Really? Enlighten me, Harmonia.”

Ghetsis cackles.  _ “As you insist. The Nimbasa Theatre opened a fifth theatrical component: ‘The Land of Truth, the Sea of Ideals.’”  _ That sounds impressive, but Giovanni will never admit it out loud.  _ “It was… surprisingly worth every cent. Oh, and do you remember how I happen to own the largest music company in the region? Pray tell me that your feeble brain still remembers.” _

“Curse you, Harmonia,” Giovanni barks, but his lips are curling. He can hear Ghetsis’s mouth twisting as well.

_ “In any case, I’ve engineered yet another enrapturing composition. As expected from someone as perfect as I.”  _ Giovanni rolls his eyes. 

Ghetsis continues,  _ “In winter, you can see the waters gleam off Skyarrow Bridge. Quite a sight, really.” _

“Sounds nice,” Giovanni says and means it. The other line is silent. He waits.

_ “W-whatever. So? What have you done,  _ Giovanni?  _ I guarantee that nothing you’ve achieved rivals my first week of Winter Break.” _

“I’m relaxing at home. I’ve waited for so long the day where I don’t have to see your face every two seconds.”

Ghetsis cackles. It sounds more like a laugh instead.  _ “Well, I’m glad that I don’t have to see your egotistical face every  _ three  _ seconds! No self-righteous idiot to ruin my day!” _

“Hah! It seems like we finally agree on something, Ghetsis!”

_ “HaHA! Yes, you’re observant for a relic, Giovanni! I bet you’re eating well now that that bear Archie is gone, eh?” _

“Of course I’m eating well! I bet  _ you’re  _ eating well because there’s no one to horde the table!”

_ “HAH! You know that’s right!” _

“Good!”

_ “Good!” _

A silence. Both men stop to take a breath. Ghetsis taps his fingers against the phone. Giovanni absently plays with his ring.

_ “Hey, Dad, the cookies are ready! Come on, or we’ll miss the opening song!” _

Giovanni makes a sound of extreme, genuine surprise. “Is that your son, Ghetsis? Are you enjoying Winter Break with you  _ sonnnnn???” _

The phone roars as Ghetsis yells at his son to get out. The young man laughs, but nevertheless complies with a,  _ “Sure, Dad. Hurry up! I brought soda and blankets!” _

_ “I’m fed up trying to engage in normal, healthy conversation with you, thug!”  _ Ghetsis hisses to Giovanni, but his voice wavers.

“Good. I’m sick of your obnoxious attitude, your oversized vegetable!”

_ “Whatever! I hope you forget to keep warm!” _

“Fine! I hope you forget to bring your cane when you go anywhere!”

_ "Whatever! Goodbye, Giovanni!” _

_ “Goodbye, Ghetsis!!” _

Ghetsis slams the phone down at the same time as Giovanni. The latter messages his temples and goes to the washroom to splash some water on his face.

* * *

Giovanni’s eyes snap open. Persian continues to snore softly at his side. The skies are still dark. He checks his alarm:  _ 4 A.M.  _

_ Was that just his imagination at work? _

Giovanni forces his head back into the pillow. His blood runs cold.  _ No. No, he did NOT imagine that! There it is again. That sound. That sound that doesn’t belong in the safety of his home.  _ Everything was locked. Everything was reinforced with electronic locks and security alarms.

_ Then where the heck is that noise coming from?! _

Giovanni grabs the gun from under his pillow. He makes his way down the bed carefully, as not to disturb Persian. Shadows slink across the halls as he sneaks about in his own home.

_ “...ni…?”  _ There’s light in his living room. Giovanni bites his tongue to calm his surging blood. He brings the gun closer… and turns.

_ The television is on. Static runs across the screen.  _ Giovanni’s eyes dart around his empty, soulless room.  _ N-no. This is impossible. He’s a man of science. Or rationale and reason. T-There’s n-n-no way-- _

_ “...vani?” _

Giovanni screams and flashes his gun to the television. The screen goes black… and then the image of a very familiar, very  _ human  _ face flashes into view.

_ “What the--”  _ Giovanni slowly lowers his gun. Every part of his body is covered in gooseflesh. _ “C-C-Cyrus…?” _

Cyrus nods. He fiddles with a dial, and his image jumps to clarity. He brings the headphones to his ears and readjusts the microphone.  _ “Giovanni. Do you copy?” _

“Y-yes.” Giovanni tosses his gun behind his loveseat. “I-I can hear you.”

_ “Good.”  _ Cyrus taps something into his keyboard. The display fizzles and slides into focus.  _ “Unfortunately, it was easier than I thought to bypass your security systems. Remind me next time to install the appropriate firewalls when I return.” _

Giovanni blinks. Cyrus folds his fingers and stares back patiently. His eyes are penetrating, even through a partition.  _ “Am I interrupting something?”  _ he says once he notices Giovanni’s choice of clothes.

“Yes…” The exasperation climbs back into Giovanni’s brain. “Yes, you are interrupting something. You’re disrupting something that’s very important to  _ normal human functioning!” _

Cyrus tilts his head.  _ What the heck? This kid’s still in his work clothes! Oh, wait. Did this brat just get out of the shower? Is that how his hair looks like when it’s down? Why the heck did he take a shower so late--er, so early in the morning?! _

_ “Oh.”  _ And then the realization hits as a flush to Cyrus’s ears.  _ “R-right.”  _ He scrambles for his equipment.  _ “I… I see. I apologize for the inconvenience, Giovanni. Go back to sleep.” _

Despite the fatigue gnawing at his brain, Giovanni shouts, “Wait!” Cyrus freezes as if he’d been caught red-handed. “Why are you calling me at four in the morning, Cyrus? Don’t you know what ‘sleep’ is?!”  _ Apparently not, judging from the shadows under his eyes.  _ Giovanni leaves this as a thought.

Cyrus glances at his clock. His brows furrow.  _ “Of course I know what sleep is,”  _ he snaps.  _ “I attempted to contact you earlier in the day, but things got out of hand.”  _ His hand hovers uncertainly over the power button.

“Busy? Over  _ Winter Break? _ ”

_ “Yes. Everyone is home for the holidays, but I need to maintain the internal workings. I’m also on standby if in case there’s an emergency. Also… my workplace  _ is  _ where I live...on the top floor.” _

Giovanni rubs the sleep from his eyes. He squints at the brat. “And you can’t call on the phone like a normal person? Why’d you hack into my television in the first place?”

Cyrus’s lips tighten.  _ “I’ve been told that I’m not… the most  _ receptive _ individual over the phone. I’m only ever called if I am needed.” _

“Oh.”

_ “Yes.” _

A silence. Cyrus drops his gaze to the open notebooks on his desk. Giovanni scratches his head. The screen is crystal-clear and picks up even the faint tapping of fingers on knees.

And then the door behind Cyrus slams open.  _ “Cyrus, I told you to go to sleep seven hours ago! _ ” A woman with violet hair storms up to his colleague. 

_ His lover?  _ Giovanni gasps.

Cyrus regards her with even eyes.  _ “I am not tired, Director Jupiter.”  _

_ Or maybe his associate? _

The woman by the name of Jupiter grasps Cyrus’s shoulders and hoists him to his feet as the man weighs nothing.  _ “Yes, you are! You’ve been working nonstop ever since you got back to Sinnoh! Do everyone a favor and go. To. SLEEP!” _

Giovanni watches with slack jaw as she proceeds to drag Cyrus from his desk. Cyrus, being the sack of bones that he is, latches onto the legs of the table.  _ “Instead of barging into my office in the dead of night, why don’t  _ you  _ go back to your room, Director?”  _ His voice is still montone, but his eyes are flashing.

_ “No, you hypocrite of a boss! I’m sick of your preaches about health! ‘Remember to sleep the full eight hours while maintaining proper nutrition.’ All talking about healthy living while  _ you  _ run on coffee!”  _ she growls in a pathetic reenactment of his monotone.  _ “Don’t make me switch out your supply  _ again _!” _

Cyrus’s brows furrow, and he frowns.  _ “Ah. So that  _ was  _ decaffeinated coffee. I should’ve known that the taste was different. I assumed that it was Mars or Saturn who--” _

Giovanni accidentally bumps into his chair. The impact is picked up on the speakers and back to Cyrus’s computer. The two people freeze. Jupiter’s eyes widen when she notices Giovanni’s presence for the first time.

“Erm. Hello.” Giovanni attempts a weak wave. Jupiter stares with slack jaw. She releases her grip, and Cyrus falls like a sack of feathers. “I’m Giovanni.”

Jupiter leans closer to the monitor. She has her finger on her lips, as if sensing something newsworthy in the air.  _ “Ah. Yes. You’re Cyrus’s… friend, right?” _

_ “He is my colleague,”  _ Cyrus grunts as he picks himself up from the floor. He dusts his pants.  _ “He was very kind to offer me a place to stay as I resumed my academic duties.” _

Jupiter looks up and down at Giovanni. He also looks at himself. Her eyes narrow at his golden robe and disheveled hair.  _ “Huh. Yes, yes… I know. Cyrus told me a lot about you, Giovanni.” _

“Oh. Really?” She has this uncanny smile that sends shivers down his spine, a smile similar to Leaf’s when the student asked him if Cyrus was considered a  _ special  _ friend. 

_ “Yes.”  _ Cyrus sits down on his chair.  _ “I told her about your reputation. You hold an impressive CV, Giovanni. And you’re a very considerate host as well.” _

_ “The Boss told me you took him to a theme park,”  _ Jupiter says with a smile that reminds Giovanni of his own when he watched Silver take his first steps.

“Oh. Yes. We went as a group. Everyone had fun, I suppose.” Giovanni casually tightens his robe. “So, Miss Jupiter… are you Cyrus’s mother?”

The light fades from Cyrus’s eyes. Jupiter’s eyebrows rise until they’re the slope of Mt. Coronet. She looks at Cyrus, who barely blinks in response.  _ “I-I’m his Director of Human Resources,”  _ she says firmly.  _ “He’s my boss.” _

_ “It is strictly a professional relationship,”  _ Cyrus mutters to the ground.  _ “She is my right hand. She is a valuable and trusted associate.” _

Giovanni mentally slaps himself. _Duh! Where did_ that _even come from? Oh Mew, it really_ is _late. Maybe he_ is _o-o-o--_

“Sorry about that,” he grunts. “I guess my brain’s still sleepy.”

Cyrus purses his lips. Jupiter’s eyes dart to her boss’s face. And then his stoic mask returns.  _ “Yes. Of course, Giovanni. You’re tired. I woke you up at an unreasonable hour. The adenosine buildup is making everyone unreasonably sentimental. Yes. That must be it...” _

Giovanni yawns. “What the heck are you talking about, Cyrus?”

_ “I digress.”  _ Cyrus folds his fingers again. He’s looking at the screen with unreadable eyes.  _ “Go back to sleep. I apologize again for the inconvenience. I assure you that this matter will not repeat itself.” _

“Wait, Cyrus!” His colleague’s hand stops before the power-button. He gives Giovanni an odd look. Jupiter has her hands on her hips. Giovanni takes a breath.  _ He won’t let his pride ruin anything this time.  _ “Feel free to call me whenever you want. I don’t mind. Just… not when I’m sleeping, for Mew’s sake.”

Jupiter chuckles. Cyrus blinks.  _ “All right. I’ll keep that in mind.” _

Jupiter grabs his shoulders again.  _ “Come on, Boss. Go to sleep.”  _ Cyrus stares at her but eventually gives a tired nod. Jupiter smiles. He turns back to the monitor.

_ “Good night, Giovanni.” _

“Good night, Cyrus,” he replies, even through it’s four in the morning. Jupiter waves. Cyrus’s eyes crinkle before the screen cuts to black.

* * *

Giovanni wakes up with a grin, feeling better than he had in years. The sun is high in the pale sky. He whistles as he opens the curtains and lets the light flood into his home. Giovanni showers, brushes his teeth, and changes into a suave black blazer with matching pants. He eats a quick breakfast, gives the newspaper a quick glance, then goes to pick his favorite fedora and shoes. 

Persian patters up to her master and grins.  _ Yes, even the Pokemon knows what day it is. _

Giovanni bends to scratch Persian’s ears. “Winter Break is almost over,” he tells the cat. “Soon I’ll have to deal with ungrateful brats and egotistical idiots called faculty. But on the bright side, I’ll still be paid.”

Persian utters a gentle laugh. Giovanni pats her head and rises. She whines. He turns to see his keys in her outstretched paw.

“Come here, you spoiled beast.” Giovanni lets the cat lick his face before returning a quick peck on her forehead. Persian purrs. Giovanni tips his hat and exits the house.

He can’t keep that stupid grin from curling on his lips as the sedan rolls past city limits and into the airport.

* * *

_ “Giovanni!” _

Archie’s arms are the first thing that he sees. Giovanni would’ve staggered if not for his years toughening his body at… well, you can say the  _ “gym.” _

“You’re crushing him, Ar--” Maxie is sucked into the embrace by an overjoyed Archie. The nerd sputters but eventually holds a hand on Giovanni’s shoulders.

“How heartwarming!” Lysandre adds in his own muscular mass. Sweat begins to build under Giovanni’s shirt, but right now, it’s the least of his concerns.

“Cyrus! Ghetsis!” Archie calls. “Get over here!”

Cyrus drops his gaze to his snow-crusted boots. Ghetsis crosses his arms and scowls. Then the youngest professor awkwardly hovers to the group. Maxie grins and pulls him in before Cyrus can complain about the snow getting on everyone’s shirts.

“Ghetsis!” Archie roars. The Lettuce-man huffs… and storms to the huddle. He rams his good hand against Giovanni’s back. The latter is willing to dismiss this invitation to verbal war this time, however.

“Team Rainbow Rocket is back!” Archie whoops at the top of his lungs and brings his colleagues into a tighter huddle. People gawk at this childish display from the six grown men, but they continue passing without incident.

“I can’t believe Winter Break is over,” Maxie says as they retrieve their luggage. He wipes his glasses. “It’s Spring Quarter now. Ugh, almost the end of the academic year.”

“Those student evaluations are rotting in my briefcase,” Ghetsis grumbles as they exit the airport and pile into Giovanni’s sedan. “Those things are censored by the time we receive them, anyway.”

Lysandre sighs. “Ah. But it was a noteworthy three months. There’s always something new to be gained every year.”

“You know that’s right, Lion-man!” Archie buckles his seatbelt. Giovanni closes the trunk and rushes to start the car. “Hey, whose turn is it to cook tonight?”

Cyrus removes his gloves. “Mine. I hope you all don’t mind miso soup with pickled vegetables.”

Giovanni laughs. He’s still wary of miso, back when Oak foolishly added too much salt into his soup. But he’s willing to start over. “Come on, professors,” he chirps as the engine purrs to life. “I am famished. Let’s just go home already.” 

  
  
  
  


__


	7. Ghetsis's Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghetsis bonds with his colleagues over ice-cream. Sometimes the best flavors are bitter as well as sweet.

_"Hello? Oh yeah, I'm doing well! I'm getting ready to eat dinner right now. How about you? Really? Seafood today? Sounds tasty! It's the mafia professor you told me about, right? Hmm? A favor? Sure. You want to take your colleagues somewhere tomorrow? You feel like you owe them? No, that's not a silly idea at all! I think it's really sweet! Of course I have suggestions! Everyone loves ice-cream, right? You know a place? That's great! Call me back whenever!"_

* * *

"Dinner is ready!"

Archie is the first to claim his seat on the table. Maxie follows with an extra bounce in his step. Cyrus silently shuffles into the kitchen. Ghetsis storms in after the youngest professor and sits beside him.

"Wine, gentlemen?" Lysandre emerges from the wine cellar with a bottle. "I kid. It's champagne night!"

"Hit me up, Lion-man!" Archie grins when Lysandre fills his glass with the sparkling lavender liquid. A fragrant smell wafts through the household.

"Seafood and champagne?" Maxie shakes his head. "Giovanni, you've really outdone yourself tonight. Lysandre, just a little for me, thanks."

Cyrus shakes his head when Lysandre offers the bottle. "Ah, all right, Cyrus." Lysandre moves to Ghetsis. "Monsieur. Champagne?"

Ghetsis raps his fingers against his glass. Lysandre hums as he pours the former a good amount of spirits.

"Do you want some juice or something?" Ghetsis casts a disinterested glance at Cyrus.

"No, thank you. I'm fine with water."

Maxie leans over. "Cyrus, can I have some water?"

"Of course. Are you planning to dilute your drink again?"

Giovanni peeks his head from the kitchen. His usual slick-backed hair is frizzled from the steam. "Wait, Maxie. Perhaps you should just stick to water like Cyrus."

Maxie's lips hover over his glass of diluted champagne. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Some people get drunk faster off champagne." Lysandre swipes Maxie's glass and adds it to his own, much to the latter's surprise.

"Excuse me?" Maxie's face is as red as his shirt. "I can handle a bit of alcohol, _thank you very much."_

"Last time you got drunk, you talked my ear off about rocks," Archie grunts with a smirk. "And then you started rambling about the landmass and finches and all that nerd stuff."

Ghetsis snickers. Maxie shoots him a glare. The former waves a dismissive hand. "' _Birds are dinosaurs, Aaarrrcchie! Didja know that chickens are modern-day dinosaurs, Arrrccchie??'"_

"I do _not_ sound like that!" Maxie yelps. Ghetsis throws his head back and cackles. Archie's shoulders shake as he snorts into his hands. Lysandre chuckles into his glass of bubbly champagne. Giovanni snorts loudly in the kitchen.

Maxie shrinks into his chair. He turns to the man who's silently folding his napkin into intricate origami. "Cyrus. I don't sound like that, right?"

Cyrus gives Maxie an unreadable look. "Your opinion on the continental drift was… _intriguing,_ to say the least, Maxie. To pour rocket fuel into a volcano as a means of forcing the landmass to change… That was… _new_ … I suppose."

"Oh no," Maxie moans into his hands, and everyone laughs. Cyrus's eyes crinkle, but he doesn't add insult to injury. In the end, Maxie settles for some hot water.

"The wait is over, professors!" Giovanni emerges from the kitchen with steaming plates of food. He sets them down on the table: angel hair pasta with wine-baked scallops. With a graceful swish of his hand, he casts down a rain of glimmering cilantro that releases an explosion of smell into the air. "Straight from the chef! _Buon Appetito!"_

"Thanks, Giovanni!" Archie clicks his wine glass with his chopsticks. "This seafood is gleaming like gold!"

"Of course." Giovanni smirks. "Only the best foods are worthy of my kitchen. These scallops were caught just this morning from the Hoenn coast. This pasta is hand-rolled and cut by yours truly from the finest of ingredients."

Maxie picks some pasta with his chopsticks. His eyes widen behind his moisture-laden glasses. "This texture… what do you call this?"

" _Al dente_." Lysandre twirls a ball of pasta with his food and drapes the angel hair onto his tongue. He'd replaced his cravat with a silk handkerchief, but there's not a spot of oil to be seen on his clothes. "This is absolutely splendid, Giovanni!"

Ghetsis stabs a scallop with his fork and puts it to his mouth. The flesh is tender and explodes into juice upon contact with teeth. "It's okay," he says after his sixth bite.

Cyrus watches everyone scarf their food before grabbing at a single strand of pasta with his chopsticks. He stares at the scallop before gingerly putting it into his mouth.

Ghetsis downs his champagne. He tells Lysandre to refill, to which the latter slides the bottle over with a frown. "Why the heck are you four eating with chopsticks?" He points his sauce-stained fork at the professors in question.

"Why are you and Lysandre eating with a fork?" Archie says as if it's the million-dollar question.

"Gentlmen," Lysandre sighs. "Can we just eat without getting into each other's throats? Please?"

"That's the ideal." Giovanni clicks his chopsticks loudly. Ghetsis scowls. The former smirks and puts a juicy scallop into his mouth. Ghetsis chugs his glass and shoots for a refill. After listening to more mindless compliments about Giovanni's cooking, Ghetsis decides that he's had enough and slams his hand on the table.

Everyone stops and glares/stares at him.

"Is the champagne too strong for your frail old body, my dear Ghetsis?" Giovanni says with an exaggerated gasp.

"Silence, you mafia boss! Listen up, fools! I have a proclamation!"

"Are you sure that's not the alcohol talking?" Maxie says and exchanges a fist-bump with Archie. Lysandre laughs as he pours himself another generous glass. Cyrus looks up at the red-faced Ghetsis before returning to eating his food like a Pidove.

_"Silence, or I will knock those nerd glasses off your face, Maxwell! You too, Archibald! I demand your undivided attention!"_

"Fine," is the collective sigh. Ghetsis finishes another glass before lifting a finger into the sky.

"Me being the merciful soul that I am, I have decided to enlighten your pathetic lives with a moment of luxury." Ghetsis glares at this gawking colleagues. "Tomorrow is the start of the weekend! Therefore, I will commandeer your uneventful day to enact my superior show of kindness!"

His associates exchange glances. _"What the heck is he saying?"_ Archie whispers loudly to Maxie.

"Ghetsis wants to treat us to something special tomorrow," Giovanni calmly explains. "Because he feels bad."

"D-do not manipulate my words, you fool!"

"Giovanni is right," Cyrus says in monotone. Ghetsis scowls. Giovanni's smirk widens, much to his rival's disbelief. "Why are you making this more difficult than it has to be, Ghetsis? You can save time and energy by using similar, simpler words."

Ghetsis snaps his jaw. Cyrus never blinks. Giovanni snorts loudly into the air. Maxie and Archie are inhaling pasta like popcorn at a movie theater when it's getting to the good part. Lysandre just sighs and pours himself another glass.

"Listen to me, you idiots!" Ghetsis roars. "Your day is _mine!_ I command you all to forsake whatever foolish plans you already have in those empty heads of yours!"

"Where are you thinking of taking us?" Giovanni says, still in that frustratingly even tone.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, old man! You will have the honor of gracing a fine frozen desert establishment tomorrow! Doesn't _that_ just lighten up your bleak and meaningless lives?!"

"He's taking all of us to eat ice-cream tomorrow," Giovanni translates. Ghetsis's face flushes, and _now_ he looks exactly like a beet with green leaves and all. This type of flush is _not_ from the champagne. Then everyone's staring at him as through he'd just summoned a giant castle from the ground.

"Why didn't you just state the truth, Ghetsis?" Cyrus's unnerving eyes shoot right through his defenses.

"S-silence, your frozen freak! D-do not make baseless assumptions—"

"So _are_ we eating ice-cream?" Archie interjects, his eyes shining with child-like glee.

"W-what? Haven't you listened to a single _word_ that I said, Archibald?!"

"ICE-CREAM!" Archie clamps Maxie's shoulders and shakes. "Maxie! The old man is going to take us out to eat ice-cream!"

Maxie shoves Archie away before the former can choke on his food. "R-really, Ghetsis? _You_ agreeing to take us out to eat _ice-cream?"_ His brow darkens. "You _sure_ it's not the champagne talking?"

_"Yes, I'm sure!"_ Ghetsis slams his hand again. " _"I'm taking you all out to eat ice-cream! And that's FINAL!"_

_…Oops._

Giovanni has a polite smile on his tight lips. "Get your filthy hands off my table before you accidently lose it." Ghetsis isn't sure if it's a bluff, but better to be safe than sorry… especially when it comes to his shady host. Giovanni smiles again his rival yanks back his hand. "Of course, Ghetsis. I will join you. Consider that kind gesture my way of collecting rent."

"I'd also love to accompany you," Lysandre says, oblivious to the warning in Giovanni's voice. "What store are you considering, Ghetsis?"

Everyone's looking at him again. Ghetsis mutters something about stupid children but eventually relents. "' _Clay's Classic Chips,'"_ is the resigned sigh.

"Sounds cool!" Archie pumps his fists into the air. "Come on, Maxie! Ghetsis is treating us to ice-cream!"

Maxie glances at his friend. He glances at everyone around the table. "I mean… someone has to keep Archie from holding up the line."

Archie grins. "All right! Maxie's on the Ice-Cream Express!"

Giovanni clears his throat. All eyes turn to him. "Cyrus, what about you? Are you coming to the ice-cream parlor?"

Cyrus's expression is blank. He looks at Ghetsis, who mutters, "I have a lot of pocket change." The younger man continues to stare at Ghetsis with those empty eyes before finally nodding.

"If it's not a problem, then I will accompany you, Ghetsis."

Ghetsis sneaks a great sigh of relief, but to the others, it sounds like a snort instead. "Fine! It's decided! Now get me another bottle, you dandy!"

Lysandre frowns. "You've drunken plenty enough, Ghetsis!"

"Pah! What's the occasion _not_ to drink? And says the one who's on his tenth glass!"

"Maxie, are you going to finish your scallops?"

"Yes, Archie! Stop staring at me! Let me eat in peace!"

"You want more cheese on that, Cyrus? Your food is getting cold."

"Hm? Oh, sure, Giovanni. Thank you."

* * *

_"Hi, Dad! So they're all going? That's great! Everyone should enjoy the magic of ice-cream! Hm? Speak louder, Dad! What to do there? You just order normally like you always do when we go out. Yeah, pick your flavors, cone, and toppings. And then pay for your friends after they've decided. Sure, glad I can help! Let me know how everything goes!"_

* * *

"Here we are," Ghetsis grumbles. " _Clay's Classic Chips._ Lovely." The sign hangs like a stupid attraction ride. The store is built exactly like his dirt gym back at Unova.

"Are those what I think they are?" Maxie kneels to inspect the walls. "By, Groudon's name, it is! Basalt! And there's pyrite, too! Obsidian, limestone…"

Cyrus hovers over Maxie while still keeping his distance. "What about that one, Maxie?"

"That's…" Maxie turns to Cyrus with a smile. "That's a meteorite fragment. You like this kind of stuff don't you, Cyrus?"

"Yes," Cyrus grunts after a pause.

"Nerds," Archie says, but he's grinning. "Rocks are cool, I guess. Space is cool too." Giovanni chuckles. Lysandre puts a hand on his hip and laughs. Then Archie's eyes widen. "Yo. Ghetsis. Are you okay?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Archie glances at his colleagues to reaffirm his surprise. They all saw it indeed. "Ghetsis, were you smiling?"

_"H-huh?_ I think the salt water's getting into your brain, _Archibald!"_

"Uh-huh." Archie's grin is spreading. "No, you were _definitely_ smiling this way. What's the occasion? Do you have a secret sweet tooth?"

Ghetsis rams his cane against the asphalt. Some passersby stare but keep on passing. His colleagues just laugh and return to whatever they were doing.

"I understand," Giovanni whispers. Ghetsis clicks his teeth but offers no rebuttal.

"Archie," Cyrus says.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"I noticed you using the word 'cool' outside of its dictionary definition as describing a temperate state of weather. May I ask why you would do so?"

Archie flashes a glance at Maxie. "Well, Cyrus…" He puts a hand on his colleague's shoulder. Cyrus stiffens. "That's an excellent observation! 'Cool' means to be awesome! Like, isn't Sharpedo just the _coolest?_ Isn't saving the ocean that _coolest_ thing in the entire world?"

"My glasses are cool," Maxie says. Everyone stares at him but refrains from raining on his parade.

"Interesting," Cyrus mutters, his eyes downcast.

Archie beams. "How about it, pal? Is your buddy Archie _cool?"_

Cyrus's brows shoot to his forehead. He blinks, as if he'd misheard. And then he says, "Yes, Archie. I think you're… 'cool.' Maxie, your glasses are 'cool' as well."

Archie's grin is radiant as he gently punches Cyrus on the arm. Maxie flushes. "T-thank you, Cyrus. Hey, next time I'm in Hoenn, I'll get you your own Maxie Glasses! How about that?"

"Please don't," his older colleagues groan, but Cyrus just nods with all the seriousness in the world.

-

There's no one over thirty in the ice-cream store. So when the professors pile in, everyone drops their ice-cream and stares at this ragtag party of powerful bosses.

"This place has a nice fragrance," Maxie notes as he looks around the small shop.

"Smells like dirt," Archie mutters, wrinkling his nose. "But I can still smell the ice-cream."

Lysandre is observing the furnishings on the wall with a slight frown. "I suppose one can call this place… _rustic…_ It has its… charms… _"_

"What kind of ridiculous music is this?" Giovanni scowls. "What's wrong with her voice? Is she sick? Sounds like something crawled in there and _died."_

In normal circumstances, Ghetsis would respond with an appropriate insult. But right now he actually agrees with his rival that, yes, this song is indeed awful. And overrated. "I never _did_ understand the appeal of country music," Ghetsis mutters. Giovanni crosses his arms.

Cyrus shuffles to the window display to stare at the rainbow vomit. Ghetsis nonchalantly steps closer to glare at the menu. Archie presses his face against the glass, and Maxie tells him to relax a little.

"That's a lot of flavors," Giovanni notes the colorful names on the board. _Someone had fun massacring highlighters,_ Ghetsis smirks to himself.

"Are some of these flavors safe to eat?" Lysandre points to a name called, "Ruin and Rabble."

"Of course they are," a voice drawls from the counter. Its owner is a woman with frizzy blue hair and almond eyes. "Clay's special recipe. Made with home-grown ingredients from the Driftveil bazaars."

"I like the sound of all-natural." Lysandre smiles.

"Good. Cuz that's all we have." Her gaze lingers on the professors before finally dropping down to Ghetsis. _Curses! He was distracted by Archie's unnecessary slobbering! Now she'll force him to—_

"Well, Ghetsis? Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"

Maxie turns around. "Ghetsis? You know her?"

"Of course he does," the woman states flatly.

Ghetsis coughs loudly. "Professors. Meet Lenora. She's a Gym Leader back at Unova." Then he yawns.

Lenora rolls her eyes. "And I met this egotistical jerk while he's taking his son to the Museum." Ghetsis's nostrils flare, but she just shrugs. "I'm also the curator at said Nacrene Museum," she tells the gawking men.

"You run a museum, you say?" Maxie's eyes are shining.

Lenora's lips tug. "That's what I said, didn't I? We display Pokemon fossils and other relics of Unovan history. If y'all happen to be in Unova, swing on by. Hit up 'Lenora,' and I'll be down to give you a tour."

"Sounds nice," Giovanni hums. She chuckles. "I'm Giovanni. That's Maxie. Archie. Lysandre. And Cyrus."

"You're not from around here, are you?" She drums her fingers on the counter. "What did Ghetsis do _this_ time?"

Ghetsis raps his cane on the mahogany floor. "We are all professors at Rainbow Rocket University, mind you! And I'm not up to anything! _You're_ the suspicious one! Don't you have a gym to run? Or are books finally obsolete, and you needed a change of scenery?"

Lenora rolls her eyes, obviously used to this type of behavior. "If you must know, _Ghetsis,_ I'm helping Clay run his side business because I'm a good friend. We Gym Leaders need fresh air too."

Giovanni is nodding for some absurd reason. Ghetsis scoffs but doesn't push it. "Just hurry up," he huffs to the other men.

"Hey Lenora!" Archie waves her over. "What's good?"

"Well, honey, I recommend the 'White Forest' flavor if you don't like stronger smells. 'Opelucid Blossom' has an earthier kick to it. 'Castelia Canvas' is pure Combee honey with a hint of caramel and sea salt. What is it, Lysandre? Oh, that's the 'Nimbasa Explosion,' a mixture of cotton candy and birthday cake."

"Oh." Lysandre appears to be a little overwhelmed. _Afraid,_ even.

"They give samples too," Ghetsis says with a yawn. Archie's eyes light up while Maxie sighs but nevertheless helps his friend pick a flavor.

"I'll have to push in a sixth day for the gym," Lysandre mutters as he allows the flavor of "Mistralton Carrot" to mellow on his tongue.

Ghetsis looks to see where Giovanni is looking. "What's wrong with you today?" the former grumbles.

Giovanni shifts his eyes Ghetsis. "It's been a while since I've had ice-cream. I'm not a big fan of sweets myself."

 _Huh. Who would've thought?_ "They also have shaved ice."

Giovanni blinks. "What is that? A 'shaved ice?' Is that a haircut or—"

"No, you idiot. They take a glob of ice—"

" _Just ice?"_

"Yes! And then they top it off with syrup or whatever condiments you want. You can also get flavored ice as well."

Giovanni nods, obviously impressed. "You sound like you have experience at these places, Ghetsis."

"Well, of course! My son—" Ghetsis stops. But Giovanni heard, and he's smirking. It could've been a smile instead. "Bah! Just hurry up! I'm losing my patience!"

Giovanni still has that blasted glint in his eyes. He returns to the menu and stares at it thoughtfully. Ghetsis grits his teeth and turns.

"Hey, Lenora." She gives him a quizzical look. Ghetsis grips his cane. "Don’t you have gelato here too?"

"Gelato?" Giovanni echoes.

"Of course we have gelato." She rummages through the counter and produces another menu. "It's all in this section too. We just ran out of space up there."

Giovanni accepts the menu with wide eyes. "How long has it been since… Why, it reminds me of when Silver was still…" Now he's muttering to himself. Ghetsis clicks his tongue and turns away. "Huh. Maybe owning real estate here has its perks after all." Giovanni laughs softly. Then he lifts his head and stares at the pink spoon in Ghetsis's outstretched hand. "What? What are you doing now, Ghetsis?"

"Shut up and eat the sample." Ghetsis shoves the spoon into Giovanni's hand, the latter accepting it with a raised brow. "You talk too much," is the harsh reasoning. "You're giving me a headache."

Giovanni's lips curl to a smirk. It could've been a smile instead.

Lenora watches the professors bicker over flavors with a content smile on her lips. Ghetsis happens to turn and notices Cyrus standing by the door. _What the—wasn't this brat just in front seconds ago?_ He marches over to the younger professor with a frown.

_"What the heck are you doing?"_

It takes a good minute before Cyrus finally looks up. "Oh. I'm sorry, Ghetsis. Were you talking to me?" His eyes are dim, his hands folded behind his back in that unnerving habit of his.

"What do you think, you little freak? What the heck are you standing here by yourself?"

"Waiting," is the flat reply. "I didn't want to get in the way."

Ghetsis puts his good hand on his hip. "Did you settle on a flavor yet?"

Cyrus regards him with unreadable eyes. "It's fine," he says after a pause. "I'm not hungry."

Ghetsis's frown deepens. He scrutinizes this snowman before him. Cyrus stares at the tips of his boots. Then Ghetsis says, "I don't care if you're not hungry, _brat._ I have a lot of loose change. I need to get rid of it sooner or later."

Cyrus's brows furrow. But before he can say anything else, Ghetsis had grabbed his sleeves and is dragging him up to the counter to a surprised Lenora.

"Give me that one," Ghetsis says. She wordlessly scoops the white ice-cream and holds the spoon out with a raised eyebrow. Ghetsis grabs it and shoves the sample into Cyrus's hands.

"Try it," Ghetsis barks. Cyrus's face darkens, but he complies nevertheless. Ghetsis watches for any signs of life in that icy mask. The most he got is a blink. "Well?"

"It's edible," Cyrus says in monotone. Ghetsis frowns again.

"That's 'Icirrius Winter,'" Lenora says gently, her eyes never leaving Cyrus's face. "Some say it tastes as light as freshly fallen snow. Not a bad choice, Ghetsis."

"A mere coincidence," he mutters, not meeting anyone's gaze.

"Hey, Ghetsis!" Archie shouts. "I picked my flavors!'

"Finally! Hey! Why are you holding two cones?"

"Come on, Ghetsis!" Archie just stares at him expectantly. Ghetsis sighs.

"I'm also done," Maxie says.

"Me too." Lysandre smooths his cravat.

"I'll take the milk-coffee gelato." Giovanni hands the menu back to Lenora.

"What about you, Cyrus?" she says. Ghetsis looks at him. Cyrus merely stares back.

"He'll have that one." Ghetsis points to the white ice-cream. "Make it two scoops. Waffle cone. Mochi and red bean toppings." Lenora gives him a strange look but nevertheless fulfills his request. Ghetsis receives his ice-cream and hands it to Cyrus, who silently accepts it.

"I'm surrounded by spoiled children," Ghetsis grumbles as he reaches for his wallet. He slaps a handful of Poke on the counter. Lenora counts his money and gives him the receipt.

"What?" he snaps when her eyes are beginning to burn a hole into his head.

Lenora chuckles. He frowns. Then she leans in and says in a low voice, "Looks like you got yourself a couple of friends, eh, Harmonia?"

Ghetsis's jaw drops. He steals a glance behind his shoulder. Fortunately, those idiots are too busy comparing ice-cream to pay him any mind. Then he turns. "Don't make baseless assumptions, Lenora!" he hisses.

She shrugs. "Yeah, yeah. _Whatever."_ Then she winks. "Maybe N's right: you can be pretty cool once in a while, you narcissist with the ego of a Stoutland."

* * *

_"Hey, Dad! So how'd it go? Oh, Lenora was there? I love her! Was Clay there too? O-oh. No, Dad, I think everyone's entitled to like whatever music they want. Um… I mean… the outfit fits his gym, right? Yes, Dad, I'm pretty sure Clay's accent is real._

_"So did you friends like it? That's good! Okay, I'll let you finish whatever you're doing. Call you soon!"_

* * *

Giovanni looks up from his cup. "Oh, Ghetsis. Did you get lost on the way to the washroom?"

"Be quiet," Ghetsis huffs. He taps his cane. "So? What's the verdict?"

Archie just nods. He's too engrossed in his creation of birthday cake and condensed milk ice-cream in a chocolate cone with gummy Teddiursa and Caterpie toppings. In his other hand is the fishcake and soy sauce-flavored ice-cream tucked into a rice cone with furikake sprinkles.

Maxie casts a look at his friend and sighs. The bespectacled man ordered a black cherry and vanilla ice-cream in a waffle cone with cinnamon powder. Everything about him just screams " _nerd!"_ from his stupid glasses to his stupid shorts to his stupid tastes in ice-cream. Ghetsis snickers at his own observation.

Giovanni raises his coffee gelato like he's tipping a wine glass. "This consistency is just as I remembered from back then! Why, they even ensured the proper ratio of milk to sugar! I can even taste the lemon!" He gives Ghetsis a smirk/smile. "Looks like I might've underestimated the Unovans."

"Whatever," Ghetsis huffs.

Lysandre's ice-cream is all red, from the scoops to the spoon to the cone to the toppings. That aristocrat explained to Ghetsis that he had opted for a mixture of base flavors to make his own creation. The cone is red velvet. The toppings, Lysandre said, was blah blah blah confetti or whatever. His ice-cream was the most expensive, even though Archie ordered two cones for himself.

Giovanni turns to his right and asks Cyrus about his ice-cream. The brat had taken one lick since they exited the storm. Now they're on the stupid beachfront. _What the heck is going through that robot's mind? Don't all brats love ice-cream?_

"So Ghetsis picked this one for you?" Giovanni looks at Cyrus's ice-cream before landing those pesky eyes on Ghetsis. "I never thought that you were the kind to—"

" _ARCHIE!"_ Ghetsis roars. It sounds like a yelp instead. The fish-fanatic snaps from his confectionary reverie. _"Ice-cream is for eating, not staring!"_

"You're right, Lettuce-man!" Archie smacks his lips hungrily. Everyone watches in morbid fascination as his giant jaws unhinge and close over the defenseless frozen treat. Half of the cone is gone. There are suspiciously Sharpedo-like teeth-mark on whatever that remained.

Lysandre snaps out of his shock and whips out his camera. "Wait! Let's all take a picture! Three, two, one! _Cr_ _ème_ _! "_ He looks at the photo. "Oh. We all look like idiots." He makes room for Cyrus to see the picture.

"That's because I'm surrounded _by_ idiots!" Ghetsis is about to snatch the photo from Lysandre's well-moisturized hands before an ocean-draining roar shatters his eardrums.

"Archie!" Maxie cries. "I told you! You're just _asking_ for brain freeze if you keep eating your ice-cream like that! Listen to me for once, you idiot!"

 _"B-b-b-b-but it's f-f-f-fun!"_ Archie gasps through chattering teeth. Giovanni simply eats his gelato as Maxie scolds his friend. Cyrus hovers next to the nerd and snaps at Archie for being such a reckless fool.

"I brought some Fresh Water." Cyrus hands the lukewarm bottle to Maxie, who unscrews it and hands it to Archie. "Drink slowly until the temperature is normalized in your mouth, Archie."

"Keep your tongue on the roof of your mouth, Archie!" Maxie shouts.

Lysandre turns to Giovanni. "There's never a dull moment with those two, is there?"

Giovanni laughs. "Apparently not. But I've come to accept it as a normal and welcoming change. Don't you agree, Ghetsis?"

Ghetsis nods. "They're idiots, but they're not all that bad…" Giovanni laughs again. Ghetsis snaps his jaw and throws a pathetic insult that bounces off the mafia boss's custom-made satin vest. Lysandre smirks, but his eyes are warm.

"I'm going to bring this idiot to lay down," Maxie says. Then Archie starts groaning and clutching his stomach. "O-or maybe I'll just bring him home. Before he starts making an even bigger fool out of himself."

Ghetsis raises a brow. "Alone?" _This nerd's all knees and bones._

"You have a point." Maxie taps his glasses as he formulates a plan. Then Giovanni steps up.

"Let's go, Maxie." Giovanni heaves Archie over his shoulder like he's used to handling bodies. "I also need to grab some things from home too."

"But… but my ice-cream…" Archie makes a sound that sends gooseflesh festering up Giovanni's neck.

"Will be in the freezer!" Giovanni snaps. "I just had this vest steam-cleaned, Archie! _Don't you dare open your mouth!!"_

Maxie purses his lips. "I think we have some Pepto-Bismol at home. If not, I can always use the green oil I got from Lavaridge Town."

The other three men give their well wishes as Giovanni and Maxie hurry down the boardwalk until they disappear into the horizon. Ghetsis sighs. _Great. Now he's surrounded by a robot and an aristocrat. Just dandy._

"I hope Monsieur Archie will be all right," Lysandre sighs. "That looked to be unpleasant at best. Certainly won't be a beautiful sight."

"Archie has a strong stomach." Cyrus still hasn't touched his ice-cream. _What the heck's wrong with him?_ "He will be fine."

"Whatever." Ghetsis remembers that he as a bottle of unexpired Pepto-Bismol back in his room. And some antacids. Grape-flavored. Should be easier to swallow than cherry.

A silence falls over the group. The Wingulls cry overheard. Lysandre's eyes dart to Ghetsis. Ghetsis glares back. Cyrus keeps his gaze on anything that's not the stupid ice-cream.

_"OHMAHGAWD IS THAT PROFESSOR LYSANDRE???"_

_Ugh._ Ghetsis's worst enemy aside from mafia-faced idiots and parents who bring their crying infants onto airplanes. _Fangirls._

Lysandre's face pales, and he chuckles nervously. "Ah! Yes! I-I am Lysandre! And you are--?"

The mob of fangirls surge over him like the next Ice Age. Ghetsis shoves these animals aside as he barrels for the exit. He scrambles out to the pier and stops to catch his breath. He can see the rabid mob scurrying around the ground with that Pyroar-fanatic as the core of the infestation.

"Glad we got out of there, Cyrus," Ghetsis mutters. Then he looks around. "Cyrus? Where'd you go, you little freak?" He must've lost that robot in the crowd. _Aah, doesn't matter. Good riddance. Less awkwardness on his plate._

Ghetsis listens to the crashing waves. He shakes his head. His fingers curl on the familiar grip of his cane. _Whatever. He paid his debt. He took them out for stupid ice-cream. Not his problem anymore._

After one last glance at the fading mob, Ghetsis limps down the sandy beach, his other hand clumsily grabbing for his pocket.

* * *

_"Hey, Dad! Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Brain freeze's the worst, isn't it! What are you doing now? Just walking? Oh. You all split up? The beach is beautiful as the sun is setting, anyways. Hm? My day? Oh, sure! Well, today I had some omelet, but it tasted bland so I added ketchup…"_

A Wingull streaks across Ghetsis's face, nearly missing his monocle. He waves his cane angrily after the bird.

_"What's the matter, Dad?"_

"Nothing. Just some stupid birds attracted to food." _Huh. There are indeed a lot of Wingulls. They're all congregating around a particular spot on the sand._ Ghetsis edges closer despite himself. _Stupid birds._ And then he notices the black dress shoes. The hem of striped slacks. The flock shifts slightly to reveal a patch of light blue hair.

"What the _heck?!"_

The other line senses the distress in Ghetsis' voice. _"Okay, Dad. Take care."_ Ghetsis slaps the phone shut and brings his cane through the flock of birds.

 _"SCRAM, you filthy beasts!"_ The Wingulls scatter. Cyrus flinches at his voice. The ice-cream cone slips from his fingers and shatters on the ground. Ghetsis storms up to the brat in question. A few Wingulls dare to return to finish their sugary meal.

_"Cyrus, what the heck do you think you're doing?!"_

Cyrus recoils once Ghetsis gets close to his face. "I turn away for _one_ second and you're off in who-knows-where! Why the _heck_ are you letting these blasted Pokemon eat your ice-cream? Is my money not good enough for you? _Well? Speak up!_ Something's definitely wrong with you, you freak—"

Ghetsis words grind to a halt when he realizes that Cyrus has his hands in front of him, almost like a shield. _And they are trembling._

 _"I'm sorry."_ The words slap Ghetsis across the face. He staggers back, his good hand instinctively clutched over his chest. Cyrus refuses to look at him as he bends to retrieve the remnants of the waffle cone from the ground.

Then Ghetsis finally drags his voice from the well. "C-Cyrus? It's okay. I-It's trash now. Cyrus. _Cyrus. CYRUS!"_

Ghetsis swipes the broken cone from Cyrus's hands before the brat can put it into his mouth. Cyrus stares with dim eyes as Ghetsis explodes again. _"What the heck are you thinking? Don't go putting trash into your mouth!"_

"It's still edible," Cyrus states flatly. Ghetsis scowls and flings the cone to the rubbish bin.

"No, it's not! It touched the ground! _When food touches the ground, they're **undesirable** and **filthy!**_ _They **belong** in the **trash!"**_

Ghetsis doesn't understand why there's a storm on Cyrus's face. He doesn't understand why this brat's voice is wavering. Doesn't understand that, for once, the usual mask is not devoid of emotion. "It is a waste of food."

 _"NO! It is NOT!"_ Ghetsis grabs Cyrus by the collar. The younger colleague flinches with the same— _yes. It is. It's fear. He's looking at Ghetsis with fear in those normally calm, icy eyes._

Ghetsis's mouth drops.

"I can always buy you another one," Ghetsis mutters. He releases Cyrus and coughs in the other direction. "I… I have a lot of spare change."

"I don't need your pity," is the muted reply. Ghetsis doesn’t want to turn around, but he does anyway. Cyrus is addressing the ground. "Please don't."

Ghetsis feels his blood thinning again. "Too bad. I'm buying you a stinking ice-cream cone. I don't care what you have to say."

"I know you don't." Cyrus raises his head. He's more solemn that Ghetsis thought was humanly possible for someone as young as him. "And please don't go back there. You're just wasting your money and time. I didn't want ice-cream in the first place, Ghetsis."

Ghetsis's jaw drops again. His own mask is slipping, but it's already too late for fix anything. "W-why? E-everyone loves ice-cream…" _Every_ kid _loves ice-cream._

"I don't."

Ghetsis blinks. _But N said…_ "What are you talking about, Cyrus? I don't understand…"

Cyrus closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "I also don't understand, Ghetsis. One minute you're snapping at me and calling me a… a _freak_." That word is uttered with great difficulty. "And the next… and the next minute you're telling me to throw away perfectly good food." He slowly lifts his eyes. Ghetsis winces for no apparent reason. "And now you're scolding me, if I'm comprehending this correctly. Just tell me your true opinion of me. That would be mutually beneficial for both of us."

Ghetsis sucks his lips with more force than necessary. _The cane is trembling—he's gripping it too hard. Never in his life had Ghetsis been grateful that his cloak is enough to hide his entire body. Now if his monocle just covered the other eye…_

Cyrus is waiting. And for some strange, absurd reason, Ghetsis can't look the kid in the eye. The man massages his chest until the constriction stops.

And the next words that come from his throat are from another person's-- from a happier, simpler time. "My son loves ice-cream, so I thought… I thought that… Well… Didn't your parents take you out to eat ice-cream when you had a bad day?"

Ghetsis shouldn't have looked up. He should've just waited it out, or better yet, he should've just shut up and bought this kid some stupid ice-cream. If he'd done that, then he wouldn't have to deal with this wound in his heart.

"I'll be right back," Ghtesis mutters to his cane. Cyrus might've nodded. The older professor almost trips over his feet as he scrambles to the restroom. The phone almost slips from his trembling fingers and into the pier below.

* * *

_"Hi, Dad, how's it—Oh. Wait, slow down, Dad! Stop. Yeah, just breathe. You okay, Dad? You know that your right side's… Yeah, I'm here. Tell me what's wrong._

_"What?! Doesn't understand the magic of ice-cream? That's horrible! Dad, you're talking too fast again! You're_ still _talking too fast! Yeah, I'm listening._

_"I'm still here, Dad. Poor kid. It's not your fault, Dad. You didn't know. Yeah… yeah. Oh, he's your colleague? But the way you described him, I thought he was a ki—Oh. Oh… you think that… Oh Darmanitan, that's so sad…"_

_"Are you still there, Dad? Huh? What would I do? Um… huh. That's a good question. What do you normally do when I'm in a bad mood? Oh! Dad, you listening? Yeah, so I'd go up to him… and give him a big hug!"_

Ghetsis's blinks. "You're joking."

_"No, I'm not! Everyone needs a hug on a bad day! Even though he won't admit it, he'll really appreciate that you're there for him, Dad! I know I will!"_

Ghetsis lets those words sink into his brain. Someone bangs on the restroom stall. He yells at the intruder and returns to his phone. "Never mind. I don't know why I even followed your half-baked ideas in the first place. I'm hanging up."

N laughs. _"No problem. Glad I could help. Good luck, Dad. Let me know how it goes."_

* * *

Cyrus is sitting on the bench near the edge of the pier. He's watching the waves lap on the sand with unblinking eyes. Ghetsis slides down to the outermost edge of the seat.

"I apologize," Cyrus says after a silence. He's talking to his hands. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Don't worry about it," Ghetsis says, but his words are absorbed by the churning tides.

Cyrus's fingers drum against his knees. When he speaks again, his voice is low. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Ghetsis. I don't really see the appeal in ice-cream. To me, it's a just a cavity-inducing concoction of empty calories and lipids." His nails press into his slacks. "But to you, it represents a precious memory with your son. I should've told you earlier. All of you were so excited to go, and I… I didn't want to spoil the mood."

Ghetsis releases his fingers from his cane with a wince.

And then Cyrus's tone changes. "But I've never seen such a joyous side to everyone today: Giovanni's delight when they had gelato… it also must've been a special memory of his son. Archie and Maxie truly look out for one another. I suppose that's the bond between childhood friends. And Lysandre demonstrated his epicurean talents with his ingenuity in ice-cream decision. It was truly fascinating to watch."

Ghetsis surprises himself by laughing. When he looks up, Cyrus's lips are tugged in a gentle arc.

"And you too, Ghetsis." He's not using his usual monotone. "You knew to let everyone know that there were samples. You knew to let Giovanni know that they had gelato. You didn't mind Lysandre's experimental ice-cream."

"A-as expected from someone as kind as me," Ghetsis mutters. _Oh Kyurem, is it getting hot in here?_

Cyrus's eyes aren't cold. "Whatever the case may be, you demonstrated another side to you today, Ghetsis. At that moment, I thought…" He fumbles with his words for a second there. "I thought you were very 'cool."

Ghetsis isn't sure if he's breathing. He knocks at his chest. Yes. His heart is working. It's pumping. He lifts his good foot without a problem. He inhales. He exhales. Yes, everything is working. _So what is this strange feeling..?_

Cyrus looks away to see a lone Wingull carry off the rest of the shattered cone. "I hope I'm using Archie's word right. I've never…" He brings his fingers to his temples. "I digress. This is pathetic. I'm being foolishly sentimental for a concept I can't even fully grasp… I'm not making any sense, Ghetsis. Feel free to disregard me."

But those words still linger in the air. "You think that I'm… cool?"

Cyrus jolts. He's still staring at nothing. "Yes." Stated with conviction. "But that might be the incorrect usage of Archie's word. In any case, I still think that you're—" Cyrus freezes. He whips his head around to find a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Ghetsis? _What are you doing?"_

Ghetsis clenches his teeth. His other hand is shaking, but the Cyrus doesn't need to see that. _How the heck does N always do this?!_

"Ghetsis. Is your hand all right?" Then Cyrus's face grows dead serious. "Are you experiencing carpal tunnel? You can borrow my squeezable ball when we return."

Ghetsis blinks. He silently curses himself and yanks his hand away. Cyrus regards him with unreadable eyes. Ghetsis clicks his tongue and stands.

"Whatever," he grunts.

Cyrus also rises. "Of course. Allow me to accompany you back, Ghetsis." The latter just huffs. Cyrus lectures Ghetsis on the importance of hand exercises on the way back until they enter the familiar forest of Giovanni's estate. 

"Go in first." Ghetsis juts a finger in Cyrus's direction.

Cyrus nods. "I'll put that squeezable ball on your desk for you. I hope Archie's recovered…"

"Whatever." A pause. "Cyrus, come here." A flash of trepidation steals across the younger colleague's face, but he stiffly marches forward. Ghtesis gives him a bored look before placing a gentle hand on the kid's head. Cyrus stiffens.

"Sorry." Ghetsis pats the Woobat's head of hair. Then he turns and limps away without checking on Cyrus's reaction… or lack thereof. Once he's out of the woods, Ghetsis leans against a tree overlooking the city and scowls.

"So I guess even the high and mighty Ghetsis has a weakness." That obnoxious voice drifts into earshot. Ghetsis jolts and whips his head to the jerk with his stupid satin blazer and his stupid widow's peak.

"What nonsense is this fossil spouting now?" Ghetsis glares at his rival. Giovanni smirks, but it looks suspiciously like a smile.

"After dropping the two childhood friends back at my house, I had to leave for some business—" Ghetsis notices the dirt and cuts on Giovanni's knuckles. His slicked hair has a few strands out of place, yet his suit is immaculate. _Oh. What is that stain on his boots?_ "—only to see this overgrown vegetable showing actual signs of kindness."

"Pah. That must be the senility talking. Did you take your medicine yet, old man?"

Giovanni's smile widens, much to Ghetsis' chagrin. This jerk is winning, and he knows it. "Don't worry. This is our little secret. An unspoken contract between fathers."

Ghetsis has a fleeting notion of slugging this fool in the stomach. It's just a whim, though. Giovanni juts his chin. Ghetsis sighs loudly, but he follows nonetheless.

"You're not letting me hear the end of this, are you?" he groans as the two men head back to the mansion. There it is again. That stupid smile.

"You know me too well, Ghetsis." Giovanni laughs. Ghetsis moans into his hands, but his own lips are tugging as well.

* * *

_"Hey, Dad! So how'd it go? Oh… oooh. It's okay, Dad. Not everyone can initiate hugs. Huh? N-no, I didn't mean that as an insult._

_"But Cyrus is okay? Really? Stress ball shaped like the planet Saturn? That's so cute! Archie's okay? Hmm… I don't think Giovanni's the type of person you think he is, Dad, even if he_ is _a little shady. Dad, if Maxie wants to wear shorts, just let him be! Yeah, I too have wondered how much money Lysandre actually carries in his fake pockets…_

 _"All your friends are amazing, Dad. You think so too? Haha. I guess it_ did _pay off to get everyone to eat ice-cream. If you keep being afraid, then you'll miss the opportunities that are just waiting for you._

_"No, nothing's too late, Dad. It's never too late to fix anything. Aw. You sound better when you laugh, Dad. Yeah, yeah, I'll never tell anyone. It's our little secret, blah, blah…_

_"Yeah, I'm still here. Yeah, I brushed my teeth already. Yeah, I locked the doors. I'm going to bed soon._

_"You know what I think, Dad? The way you described them to me sounds like they're more of your friends than just associates. HAH! Of course I have more places that you can take them to! I'm your son, after all!"_

Ghetsis glances around the empty living room. He whispers into the phone.

_"Huh? Oh. Aw, thanks, Dad. I lov—Okay. Okay. Happy to help. Good night, Dad. Call you back some other time!_

_"Oh, and Dad? You're really cool, you know that?"_


	8. The Greatest Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's going on with everyone today?

Every day is just like any other day. Giovanni is awakened by either his alarm clock, Persian's paw up his mouth, or his nightmares. The restroom is empty depending on what day it is and whether or not that Lion-man is awake. Giovanni usually makes himself a quick breakfast before leaving. Sometimes Maxie or Cyrus will accompany him to his morning class.

Lectures are nothing new. A handful of students come to office hours to complain about their grades. Faculty brown-nosing here and there. Papers. Confidential documents. Phone calls. Departmental meetings that send him screaming into his own mind.

Sometimes his day is so busy that he doesn't see those idiots. Well… the University _is_ quite big, the biggest in the region for that matter. And everyone's schedules and disciplinary are so radically different as well.

So when his obligations to academia are fulfilled, Giovanni heads straight home to his beloved Persian. Maybe he _had_ grown so used to those five idiots that a quiet house often sends him into a panic.

And the one day, something happens.

"Giovanni!"

Said man stops. "Maxie? What are you doing outside my office? Don't you have class?"

Maxie smirks slightly. "No. I'm done with my day. How about you?"

Giovanni puts on his fedora. "Yes. I'm just about to close up and leave." _About time too._

"Great." Maxie follows Giovanni outside the halls. "Do you want to stop by the park?"

"Why? I don't really see what's so great about rocks, Maxie."

Judging from how red Maxie's face is, Giovanni had hit the nail on his head. "A-are you making fun of the Great Maxie?" The man clears his throat and readjusts his glasses. "Anyway… It's the mating season between Nidoking and Nidoqueen. I thought you'd be interested."

Giovanni looks at his watch. "I have a Nidoqueen," he mutters.

Maxie smiles. "I know. Let's go then."

Giovanni sighs loudly. "Well, I suppose I can spare some time." He makes his voice as aloof as possible, but Maxie sees right through his guise with those nerd glasses of his.

"Come on then!" As the two professors leave the University, the bespectacled man keeps Giovanni entertained by sharing tales of what Archie did the other day. And true to Maxie-fashion, the nerd veers into a tangent about shifting tectonic plates and ends up babbling on about the values of sedimentary rocks.

To Giovanni's surprise, he finds this geek's lecture to be highly amusing.

Then they've arrived at the park. Maxie waves Giovanni to the distance. The two squat behind some bushes and peer outwards. Yes, there, in the open grass is a herd of Nidoqueen and Nidoking congregating around a water source.

Maxie adjusts his glasses. "Look, Giovanni. She's choosing a mate."

"Indeed she is." Giovanni observes in awe as a Nidoqueen sizes her potential suitor with a bored look on her face. Then she waits. The Nidoking huffs and proceeds to perform an elaborate dance. He then presents a crown of flowers to his queen.

Maxie laughs when his colleague's mouth drops. Giovanni isn't saying anything, but his attention is fixated to the phenomenon that's unfolding before him. Maxie turns just in time to witness nature's rite of passage.

"Erm… Giovanni?"

"Yes, Maxie?"

Maxie coughs into his fist as if he'd misheard. "I, erm, think we should leave them alone. You know. While they do _that_." His face is bright red for some weird reason.

The Nidoking's moan shatters the air.

"Shh!" Giovanni scowls and turns back to the sight. Maxie blinks.

The Nidoqueen utters a low, coy purr of pleasure as the ground literally shakes.

"Beautiful," Giovanni murmurs. Maxie just stares at him. "I believe a female Nidoran will be born within a month." The older professor chuckles. "Did you know that the Drill species of Pokemon is monogamous, Maxie? They only have one mate throughout the span of their lives. That explains why more males die alone."

A sultry, sensual cry swells into the air. Maxie looks up from his hands. "O-oh." His voice is faint. "Really? That's… really interesting…"

Giovanni nods, oblivious to Maxie's state of extreme discomfort. "Yes. And did you know that the female Beedrill will consume her mate after conception? Their species is similar to the relationship of the black widow spider…" Maxie listens with wide eyes as Giovanni rambles about the story of the Pidgey and Combee.

"Oh really?" Maxie will nod and quip in witty questions that makes Giovanni's eyes glint with child-like glee. The two professors eventually leave the mating ground with a very engrossed Giovanni and a very flustered Maxie.

"Thank you for letting me know about that, Maxie," Giovanni hums as they walk through the familiar territory of his forest. "I should get out more."

Maxie chuckles. "Of course, Giovanni. Isn't nature wonderful?"

And in that heartbeat in time when Giovanni turns to appreciate a passing Starly, Maxie whips out his phone and launches the operation into effect.

**_Be ready. –M_**

* * *

Archie jumps out of the trees like a stupid Banette. Giovanni instinctively reaches for his gun while Maxie dives into the bushes.

"Oh, come on, Maxie!" Archie puts his hands on his hips. "Don't tell me you're still a scaredy-Meowth!"

"T-the Great Maxie is not afraid of anything!" Giovanni has never seen someone casually dust off leaves from his shirt like it's another day in the woods. Maxie straightens. He taps his glasses until his smirk reappears. "And what are _you_ doing, Archie? You're camping out in the trees like a blasted troglodyte!"

Archie grins. "Maxie, why do you always use such hard words no one cares to understand?" Maxie flushes. Archie laughs and turns to a frowning Giovanni. "Actually, do you two want to go fishing? It's prime season for Goldeen!"

"I have no intention of getting wet," Maxie grumbles. "Didn't you used to fish, Giovanni?"

"Yes." _When Silver was young._ "But it's been a long while."

Archie puts a hand on Giovanni's shoulder. "That settles it. Let's go fishing, Gio!"

Giovanni nonchalantly shrugs off Archie's clammy paw. "Didn't you hear a single word I said, Archie? And besides, I have to check if Persian's—"

"You spoil her too much," Maxie grunts. Archie nods, much to Giovanni's chagrin. "You need to get out more, remember? Stay here. I'll bring the fishing supply."

Giovanni starts forward. "I-I'm going too. I have the key—"

"So do I." Maxie holds up his own copy. _Damn nerd._ "I'll also check on Persian. You'll see her soon, anyways."

"But—"

Archie pulls Giovanni into his beefy chest. Gooseflesh breaks on Giovanni's skin. _Who the hell sweats this much?!_ "Go, Maxie! We're not getting any younger!"

Maxie hurries into the mansion and returns with said equipment. Archie slaps the bucket hat on Giovanni's head before the latter can protest. Maxie waves them out as Archie drags his unwilling colleague down the boardwalk and into the pier.

"Archie, I do not want to fish," Giovanni huffs when Archie shoves the rod into his hands.

"Oh, lighten up, Gio! This is a Super Rod! A Super. Rod. My good friend Shelly gave it to me!"

Giovanni glares at said rod. _Well… it's indeed a Super Rod. Nice weight. Light. Sturdy._

Archie casts his line into the still waters. He whistles some tune as his legs dangle in the air.

"Is that Spongebob?" Archie turns to his colleague with wide eyes. Giovanni realizes his mistake too late.

But Archie's face is kind. "You watch it?" he gasps.

Giovanni's brows furrow. "A long time ago," he grunts after a pause. "My son used to love that show." His reflection stares back at him—rueful and frowning. "He loved that pink character. He said that I was like that crab creature. Something about money…"

Archie bobs his line with a pensive look on his face. He seems to be thinking deeply about something.

"Even though he's busy, Maxie and I rewatch our favorite episodes every Saturday night. We used to do that when we were kids." Archie laughs at Giovanni's surprised expression. "He told me that I was like Spongebob. Because I'm loud or something like that. Ghetsis is Squidward. And that nerd's like Plankton." His grin widens. "I mean, I can see the Mr. Krabs in you, Gio. B-but not in a bad way, of course."

Archie's smile is warm. Giovanni absorbs his words with a pensive frown. He doesn't notice his line wavering until Archie begins to yell at him.

"Giovanni! You have a bite!"

"Finally!" Giovanni cackles and yanks his pole back. _The fish is a stubborn fool._ No matter. He knows how to deal with unwilling customers. Giovanni lurches to his feet, steadies his ground, and wrenches the fish from the jaws of safety.

No one speaks when the Magikarp hits the wood with a dull splat.

"Archie?"

"Y-yeah?"

Giovanni holds up his pole. "This is a Super Rod?"

Archie laughs nervously. "Uh… well, duh! It even says 'Super Rod!'" He falters when Giovanni's mouth twists into a snarl.

Giovanni jabs an angry hand at the flailing fish. "Then why the heck did I land _that_ thing? Look at it! Every fisherman's worse nightmare!"

"C-calm down, Giovanni!" Archie waves his hands. "These things happen! It's not guaranteed that you'll _never_ catch a Magikarp! A-and maybe this area's got nothing _but_ Magikarp here!"

Giovanni sighs. He runs a hand through his hair. _No, Archie's right. Why am I getting so worked up? It's just like last time. All I ever catch are these useless fishes…_

Archie is quiet. "Gio?" he says softly.

"I take that back," Giovanni sighs again. Then he smirks—a smirk soft enough to have been a smile instead. "I've had a long day. Thanks for bearing with me, Archie."

His colleague's face breaks into a sunny grin. "Sure thing, Giovanni! I mean, you do look a little stressed whenever you come back. I thought a little fishing trip can expel some of that anger, you know?"

Those words sink into Giovanni's skull like a ray of sunshine. He blinks. He looks at Archie, who's beaming like a stupid child.

And then Giovanni laughs. _Is that what it was? How… considerate of you._ "Thank you, Archie."

"Sure thing, bud!" Archie stands. "Now, what are we going to do with that Magikarp? I ain't keeping it. I have too much already."

"We return it to the sea." Giovanni raises his leg, but Archie stops him before his feet can connect with the Pokemon. After much pleading and the threat of tears, Giovanni reluctantly picks up the slimy fish and tosses it back into the water.

It feels as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Better?" Archie laughs. Giovanni stares at his colleague before returning a smile of his own.

"Better." Archie pats Giovanni's shoulder, and for once, the latter doesn't mind a soaking-wet hand on his expensive suit. The two professors watch the tranquil waves in silence.

And when Giovanni closes his eyes to take a deep breath, Archie sneaks a quick text to his phone.

**_All yours. –A_**

* * *

Giovanni turns just in time to see a faded blue bicycle roll up to the two men.

"Cyrus!" Archie booms. "Still riding that granny bike?"

Cyrus's brows furrow. "It's a fully-functioning bike, Archie," he says flatly.

"What are you doing out here, Cyrus?" Giovanni says.

"I've just finished my last lecture of the day." Cyrus juts his chin to the briefcase in the basket. "And you, Archie and Giovanni? Were you two fishing?"

"Yup!" Archie drapes a hand around Giovanni's shoulder. "Gio here just caught a Magikarp!" Giovanni's face reddens, but before he can defend himself, Cyrus speaks.

"Impressive." There's not a hint of sarcasm in that monotone. "My Gyarados was once a Magikarp like that as well. You just have to be patient and nurture its true potential."

_Wait a minute. Is that kid trying to comfort me?_

Cyrus tilts his head, thinking. Then he turns to the larger man. "Archie, would you mind if I borrow Giovanni for a while?"

Archie's eyes glint mischievously. "Go for it, buddy!" He gives Giovanni a gentle shove. "Come on, Gio! Cyrus needs you!"

"W-why?" Giovanni sputters.

Cyrus points at the backseat of his bicycle. "I want to show you something, Giovanni."

"Uh…" And Giovanni would've kept standing there if Archie hadn't given him the much-needed push. Literally. The former stumbles to his younger colleague who wordlessly holds out a star-speckled helmet.

_What a nerd._ Giovanni chuckles to himself.

"Giovanni." Cyrus is waiting. Said man looks back at Archie. The latter flashes a big thumbs-up. Then Giovanni sighs and swings his leg over the seat.

"Have fun!" Archie shrinks into a fading blob as Cyrus pedals down the boardwalk in the opposite direction. The din of noise and city smog vanishes into a saline air that assaults Giovanni's nostrils.

"Cyrus?"

"Yes?"

"Civilization is that way."

"Yes." Cyrus turns just in time for the sun to catch in his hair. From this angle, he appears as if he's radiating a halo of fire.

"What does that mean, Cyrus?" Giovanni mutters. The younger professor's eyes merely crinkle. He juts his chin to the side. Giovanni looks and gasps.

Cyrus had taken his granny bike further down the shoreline to an untamed section of the beach. But it's the absence of humans that makes this sight so breathtaking.

"Cyrus!" Giovanni points to the sky. "There are bubbles in the air!"

"Indeed," Cyrus hums. The sun is a giant ball of red in the multicolored skies. The Krabby gather on the sand with bubbles streaming from their pincers. Cyrus slows his pace so Giovanni can observe a group of Shellos playing in the surf.

"Is this your first time?" Cyrus says, jarring Giovanni from his reverie. The older man just nods. Cyrus makes a soft sound in his throat. "Let me know when your schedule is free. I'll take you to Valor Lakefront, where the view is even more spectacular."

Cyrus parks his bicycle against a rocky ledge. "Now, follow me, Giovanni." He moves to the shoreline with an awed colleague at his heels. Cyrus bends to remove his socks and shoes. He rolls up his slacks before wading further into the surf.

"Cyrus?" Giovanni's voice is small.

"Stay there, Giovanni. You'll get your pants wet." Cyrus seems to be searching for something in the water. He doesn't seem to mind the herd of Shellos that's gathering around this strange human _. Why, the Pokemon seems to be greeting him, as if he was an old friend!_

A pair of feet clumsily hops into the waves. Cyrus looks up with disbelieving eyes. "What did you want to show me?" Giovanni breathes, his dress shoes hanging from his hands.

Cyrus stares at him for a second. And then his lips tug warmly. He returns to the task at hand while Giovanni's never looked so lost in his life.

"Ah." Cyrus's eyes widen. "There you are. Now, don't—Wait, no. Stop. Stop-ow!"

Giovanni rubs his eyes. For a second there, he thought he saw a kid instead of his twenty-seven-year-old colleague. Cyrus continues to talk to the water as it splashes his clothes, and Giovanni isn't sure whether to be worried or amused.

"It's me," Cyrus is saying. The Shellos seem to laugh. "I brought a friend. He won't hurt you."

The sunlight catches on the golden Luvdisc in Cyrus's hands. Giovanni gasps. The Pokemon's sparkling skin rivals even the most precious evolutionary stone.

Cyrus presents the Luvdisc to an awestruck Giovanni. The latter hesitates before accepting the Pokemon into his arms. Luvdisc fidgets, but Cyrus calms it down with soft words of encouragement.

"What do you think, Giovanni?" Cyrus says.

Giovanni slowly lifts his head. "It's beautiful," he gasps. "I've never seen a shiny Luvdisc before." It's like holding a blanket made from the finest golden threads.

The Shellos nips at Cyrus's fingers. He bends down and presents the sea slug to Giovanni. Both Pokemon smile up at him. The ice melts on Giovanni's face, and he slowly smiles back.

Cyrus watches as Giovanni pets the Shellos on its mushy head. The older man laughs. Luvdisc squirts some water into his face, but Giovanni's too amazed to even be angry about his suit right now.

And in the moment when Shellos captures Giovanni's attention by a kiss to the cheek, Cyrus slips out his phone, taps the screen, and tucks it away within batting an eye. 

**_Be on standby. –C_**

* * *

****

"Giovanni," Cyrus says after a while. "It's getting late. You'll be sick if you stay out here past sunset."

It takes a minute for his words to reach Giovanni's brain. "Okay, Cyrus," he mumbles. Cyrus reaches for the Pokemon and returns them to the water. He gives a quick wave to the Shiny Luvdisc. The Pokemon regards the two men with a wink. Cyrus then turns to bid the chattering Shellos a farewell.

"You come here often, Cyrus?" Giovanni grunts as he climbs on the granny bike.

"Yes," Cyrus says after a pause. Giovanni waits. He never receives his specification. The older man settles on watching the sandy shore roll by as Cyrus silently pedals back into the city.

"Did you have fun, Giovanni?"

Giovanni looks at this colleague. "Yes," he replies, earning another soft sound from the younger man. "Thanks, kid."

_Oh. Is Cyrus laughing?_

The bicycle wheels down the streets before stopping before a grocery store.

"Ghetsis?" Cyrus says.

Said man huffs. "Who else can it be?" He measures his colleagues with narrowed eye. "You're taking this old man on a joy ride, you little freak?"

Cyrus drops his gaze to his scarf. Giovanni shoots Ghetsis a dirty glare. The Lettuce-man exhales sharply through his teeth. 

"W-why don't you go back first, Cyrus?" Ghetsis says through loud coughs. "I'll take Giovanni off your hands."

Cyrus's expression returns to his resting indifference. "Very well. Thank you, Ghetsis."

Giovanni shakes his head. "Now wait a damn minute. I'm actually going home with Cy—" Ghetsis jabs his cane into his rival's side. Giovanni roars, hops off his seat, and brings his fist back to slug this asshole in his nonfunctional eye.

"Giovanni." Cyrus's voice snaps him back to his senses. Ghetsis smirks. "I shall head back first, then. Have fun with Ghetsis."

_H-have fun with Ghetsis?! That's the most ridiculous thing you can say, Cyrus!_ _That's an oxymoron! A juxtaposition of two things that could never go together!!_

Cyrus is already gone when Giovanni cools his head. The latter shoves his fists into his pockets and scowls. Ghetsis doesn't make eye contact.

"Let's go," the Lettuce-man huffs after an unnerving silence. Giovanni stiffly follows him into the sliding doors.

"You can at least treat him a little nicer," Giovanni mumbles once they've rounded the produce section.

Ghetsis scowls, but there's another expression in his eyes. He's staring at the bell peppers as if they're the most fascinating things in the entire world.

"Why do you need me here again?" Giovanni says after another silence.

Ghetsis scoffs. "Like you got anything better to do." He taps his finger against a head of lettuce. "Hmm… Three for 500 Poke? How dubious…"

Giovanni glances at Ghetsis's basket. "You buy a lot of vegetables."

"I see you're not blind." Another silence. Ghetsis is frowning like his entire row of teeth is hurting. "I'm used to it, I guess," he grunts.

"Oh? You're vegetarian?"

A snort erupts from Ghetsis's throat. It sounds more like a relieved laugh instead. "That's a good one. No, my son's vegetarian." He makes a face. "Wait. Maybe he's vegan. Whatever. Same difference."

He turns. "Yours?"

Giovanni crosses his arms. "Silver loves his meat. He can care less about soy patties."

Ghetsis's lips tug. "Well, I'll have you know that I know twenty different ways to grill a steak. In fact, I've won three seasons of _Unova's Meat Masters_ and even appeared in the monthly segment of Castelia News!" He cackles. "As expected from a picture of perfection like myself!"

Giovanni rolls his eyes, but he's smirking. "How do I know if you're telling the truth? Why don't you prove it then?"

Ghetsis cackles. He rams his cane onto the tiles. People look but are too afraid to confront this tall, glowering, cape-donning man. "Now we're talking! Prepare to eat your words!"

The two wander around the market for a bit more. They stop at the dry produce section. Ghetsis motions for Giovanni to put his hands into the pool of beans.

"And why would I do that?" Giovanni says in disbelief. "People eat this, you know."

"Don't you know they wash it first?" Ghetsis buries his good hand into the pellets with a mischievous smirk on his face. "You should try this next time you go shopping."

Giovanni checks the vicinity before succumbing to his morbid curiosity. _Oh. It's actually a pleasant sensation. It's like putting my hand into a chilled blanket._

"You're like a ten-year old," Giovanni says as Ghetsis piles beans upon the scooper like he's piling dirt upon the grave.

"Whatever." Giovanni plucks a cinnamon stick from somewhere and jabs it into the beans. Giovanni snorts despite himself. The Lettuce had spelled "Loser" into the produce that's clearly meant to be sold and eaten by families.

"And my work here is done." Ghetsis dusts his hand. He quickly slips away with an exasperated but amused Giovanni at this heels.

The taller man rounds to the meat section. Of course, that unsavory idiot begins to poke at the plastic partition separating the pink flesh from his own finger. After a little coercion and his own growing curiosity, Giovanni gingerly sinks his nail into a lumpy kidney.

"Where do all the meat come from?" Giovanni mumbles under his breath. Ghetsis's brows furrow. "Have you ever thought about that?"

"Does it matter?" Ghetsis mutters a bit awkwardly. The two men have reached a morbid conclusion, but neither of them were willing to speak it. In fact, it's better if this issue is forgotten all together.

Before they leave the meat section, Ghetsis adds, "That's why N's veganatarian in the first place. His Pokemon friends would disown him if he wasn't otherwise."

The two men wander around the market for a while longer until they stop at the freezer section.

"Silver likes that brand." Ghetsis turns with wide eyes. Giovanni laughs into his hand and continues, "It's nothing but sugar and food coloring though. He likes banana-flavored the most."

Ghetsis appears to be mulling something in his head. He lifts his cane to the glass. "That's N's favorite. Right there. It's a travesty to ice-cream everywhere, in my opinion. It's just ice."

A comfortable hush falls over the group. Ghetsis phone rings. He casually flips the lid and smirks.

**_Everything is ready. -C_ **

"Good news?" Giovanni says, his mind lost in another point in time.

"It's getting late." Ghetsis ignores the question altogether, but Giovanni doesn't think much of it. "Let's go back before it's too dark for your tired old eyes." After he pays for his groceries, the two men make their way home as the sun begins to dip into the horizon.

"Ghetsis."

"Huh? What?"

"I actually enjoyed our little misadventure."

Ghetsis laughs. "Well, there's one thing we can agree on, at least."

* * *

The first sign that something isn't right is the dark windows. As they near the mansion, Giovanni's worst fears are confirmed by just how peaceful everything is.

"No one's home?" Giovanni frowns. A cold finger touches his heart. Ghetsis just shrugs and moves out of the way.

"It's dark." Giovanni peers into the door. "Hello? Archie? Cyrus? Maxie? Lysandre, are you home?" His voice echoes into the empty gloom. The coldness spreads to his fingertips. "This isn't funny! Damn it, where's that light switch? Oh, there—"

"SURPRISE!"

Archie leaps from the sofa with a burst of confetti. Giovanni screams and stumbles back until he hits Ghetsis's chest. Maxie springs up from behind his friend and releases a stream of glitter into Giovanni's face. Cyrus emerges from the back of the curtain with Persian in his arms. Lysandre crawls from under the mahogany table with a small groan.

All of them are donning triangular party hats.

"What the hell…" Giovanni glances back at a smirking Ghetsis. He then returns to the sight in question. "What the… But…"

"Happy Birthday, Giovanni!" his roommates cry. Giovanni gasps. He scrambles to his feet. There are red banners hanging from his walls like damn tapestries. Little rainbow "r" stickers have been cut and pasted onto every inch of wall.

Archie grabs Giovanni into a big hug. "Do you like it? Do you like your surprise?"

"S-Surprise?" Giovanni's voice doesn't reach his ears.

Maxie pats Archie's shoulder. "We even have a theme for this occasion! Behold!" He gestures to the Pokemon-themed decors, ranging from Caterpie-printed plates to the Poliwag-themed hats to the Nidoran-themed bib around Persian's neck.

Lysandre pushes the hair from his eyes. He looks quite tired, but he's smirking with all the vigor of his Pyroar. "I've been up all night researching Italian cuisine just for this moment. I've been cooking nonstop too, just to perfect the spices. What do you think, Giovanni?" He escorts Giovanni to the kitchen table where piles of food await him like a damn buffet. The scent of salted cod sneaks its way into Giovanni's stomach.

Cyrus shuffles forward with a smiling Persian in his arms. He sets the cat down to her master. "Persian wishes you Happy Birthday, Giovanni," he says with an upturned mouth. "As do I."

Ghetsis marches into the room and grabs a party hat from Maxie. "You really are an old man, eh, Giovanni?" he laughs.

Giovanni shakes his head. He rubs his eyes. He does it twice. He checks his pulse, his lungs. Everything seems all right, but his heart's about to leap from his throat.

Maxie extends a party hat, to which Giovanni numbly accepts. "Sorry," the former sighs. Giovanni blinks. "We didn't know what to get you." _Oh. There is indeed a lack of colorful boxes in the room._ "I mean, what do you get someone who already has everything?"

"You give them memories," Cyrus states without his usual monotone. He clears his throat and looks away. "At least, that's what we've all agreed to do."

Giovanni steps closer. "All of you?" he whispers.

"Yes." Lysandre smooths his beard. "We've been planning this for months now. I was about to get you a sedan, Giovanni, but you already have five in your garage."

"Don't tell me you forgot your own birthday," Ghetsis huffs. "You really are going senile, are you?"

_Birthday…? Oh. It's been a while since my last one, hasn't it? Usually Archer or Petrel would send the occasional card. But the last time I had a celebration was when…_

Archer calls everyone forward. Lysandre emerges from the back with a golden tray. On that tray is a cake nestled on top of a satin napkin. The businessman proudly explains the aesthetic behind his confectionery masterpiece, but Giovanni's too absorbed in the moment to actually listen. The cake, although not at all like the fancier ones he'd seen all his life, has his favorite colors of red and black. Small sprinkles of gold leaf and basil as garnish. There's even a miniature replica of a giant-headed Giovanni and Persian on the top.

_Oh Mew._

"We only bought one candle." Ghetsis drums his fingers against his cane. "Because we all know how touchy you are about your age."

Giovanni silently shuffles forward. Maxie breathes life into the lone candle amidst the sea of black and red. Archie darkens the room. Cyrus has his camera on standby. Lysandre rubs his hands excitedly.

And with a grand cry, Ghetsis raises his finger to the air. "One! Two! Three!"

His roommates explode into song. "Happy Birthday to you!"

_Oh Mew they sound awful._

"Happy Birthday to you!"

_This is actually happening. They're actually celebrating my birthday. Everyone is here. Persian is here._

"Happy Birthday to Giovanni!"

_This is not a dream. They actually made me a cake._

"Happy Birthday to you!"

_They actually took time out of their lives to plan this… this trivial, childish…_ The candle light seems to grow brighter. Giovanni rubs his eyes. The room explodes into applause and Archie's rambunctious laughter. Giovanni shrugs off his blazer. _Did it get warmer in here?_

"Make a wish!" Archie insists. Giovanni stares at him with glassy eyes.

"Make a wish, Giovanni." Ghetsis's tone is warm. Everyone is staring at the birthday man. Persian meows and nuzzles his leg.

"All right." Giovanni closes his eyes. He thinks long and hard about his wish. He sucks in a deep breath and extinguishes the flame.

The room once again breaks into applause. Cyrus puts his camera down. "What did you wish for, Giovanni?"

A flush hits his cheeks. "Um… well, I…"

"If he tells us, then it won't come true," Maxie says with a slight jab to Cyrus's arm.

"Oh, is that how it works? I see… Interesting." Cyrus is nodding as if Maxie had just answered life's greatest question. "Oh, wait, Giovanni. Before you cut your slice, we actually have another gift for you."

Giovanni gasps. "What is it?"

The roommates turn. Giovanni squints at the darkened door. Before he can demand an explanation, an all too familiar voice stops him cold. A voice that squeezes his pounding heart. A voice that called when he used to pick its owner up from middle school.

"Happy Birthday, Father."

The head of bright red hair peaks into the light. Giovanni's heart climbs up his skull. Moisture springs to his eyes. His roommates pretend not to notice as the birthday man desperately wipes his face into his sleeves.

"Silver?"

The young man nods. A timid smile spreads on his lips. "Yup. It's me. I'm back."

"You came home." The words choke in Giovanni's throat. Silver fidgets with his feet… and rushes into the open arms of his father.

"It's been so long, Father. I-I've forgotten how you feel like." Silver's voice is breaking. He buries his face into Giovanni's pulsating chest. "You still use this old-man cologne?"

"Watch it, kid." _You've grown up so much, Silver._ Giovanni clears his throat to dislodge the lump in his chest. He grips his son's shoulders. _You have my face, but you have her eyes._ "But how are you here, Silver? Shouldn't you be in school? And does your mom know?"

"Your friends wrote an excuse for me." Giovanni almost forgot the others are here. He slowly raises his head to the assholes who dared to invade the sanctity of his home in the first place. "The old coot looked scared to death when he saw that Rainbow Rocket seal," Silver continues. "I'm officially excused for the week! Plus I have no homework too!"

Giovanni brings his eyes back to Silver. "But… how…"

"They bought us plane tickets. First class!"

"O-Oh, really? That's—" An icy hand grabs Giovanni's heart. "W-wait, Silver. Y-you said… ' _us?'"_

As if to answer his question, a heel clicks on the recently waxed floor. His ring blazes to life. Giovanni doesn't have to turn to know whose shoe that belongs to.

He'd been around her long enough to burn her cinnamon-scented perfume into memory.

She shifts, and her silver ring gleams in the darkened light. "Giovanni," Ariana says. "You're not even going to look at me?"

"Father," Silver murmurs, jarring Giovanni from his shock.

Ariana puts a hand on her hip. "Well, you smug little bastard? I haven't seen you in who-knows-how long. And when I finally do, you're just going to stare at me like a stupid Magikarp?"

Someone nudges his shoulder. _Archie._ Someone whispers encouraging words into his ear. _Maxie._ A tap to the kneecaps. _Ghetsis._ A jut of the chin. _Lysandre._

"Go on, Giovanni," Cyrus says with a small smile.

And Giovanni does. He leaps to his wife with Silver in his arms. He pulls his family into an embrace. Ariana mutters something about him still being a big crybaby but nevertheless caresses his stinging cheeks with a gentle finger. Silver laughs hoarsely into his parents' arms.

"Ariana." All words fail Giovanni except for her name.

"Shh, you fool. You're going to embarrass yourself again." She rubs her nose against his own. "Toughen up. Remember who you are. Your friends are watching."

Giovanni's head snaps up. His roommates immediately look away and busy themselves with whatever's in their hands.

Giovanni springs to his feet. He rushes towards his colleagues and ushers them towards his wife and son. He even included that stupid Ghetsis.

Archie looks around the circle. "Um… group hug?"

Giovanni nods. "Group hug." Archie grins and wraps his large arms around his friends. Giovanni links arms over Silver and Ariana and holds them close. Persian peeks her head onto his chest.

"Happy Birthday, Father," Silver says.

"Happy Birthday, you big oaf," Ariana says as she taps her ring against his own.

"Happy Birthday, Giovanni," his friends say with all the sincerity in the world.

"Thank you, everyone," Giovanni whispers. He doesn't bother to hide his tears anymore. "Thank you so much… I don’t know how I can ever repay you…"

_I don't know what I did to deserve all of you._

"It's fine." Maxie laughs. "It's our fault we didn't get you any gifts in the first place. But I hope this also works for you."

_It's fine, Maxie. It's okay. You all have already given me the greatest gift of all, the most precious gift that even all the money in the world can't afford. You, Archie, Cyrus, Lysandre, and even stupid Ghetsis brought my family together again. Without all of you, I would still be paralyzed by my own fear._

_Maybe… Maybe that old hag actually did something right for once in her life. If it wasn't for her stupid demand, then I wouldn't have met any of you. We would still be strangers. If all of you didn't barge into my life, then I would've still be living in the darkness I created for myself…_

Giovanni could've said all of that. He could've said that and more. But he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at each member of this family, as if pleading them not to get up and leave his life forever. His wife and son and friends stare back with worried expressions.

And then Giovanni's face blossoms into a radiant grin. He laughs heartily. "Enough of the long faces. It's my special day, damn it! Come on, everyone, let's have that stupid cake already. I'm not getting any younger."

* * *

And from that day forward, a new picture takes residence on Giovanni's colorful mantle frame. This photo captured the moment when Giovanni cut his first slice of birthday cake while his cherished family cheered in the background.

_It was indeed the greatest gift of all._


	9. The Cook-Off Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The parents agree to a formal showdown to prove their superiority.

Our delightful story begins over an innocent squabble during dinner. Friday's eve will soon transpire into Saturday, ushering in the start of a restful weekend.

Tonight, though, it is Ghetsis' turn to cook, so no one's really relaxing just yet. The professors are wary when the monocle-wearing man emerges from the kitchen with plates of… something.

"What is this?" Archie squints at the golden globs of thick, chunky sauce. "Is this… cheese?"

Maxie pokes his food and withdraws a tendril of gold with his chopsticks. "I think it is," he mutters.

Lysandre appears to be a bit pale. The food reflects in his narrowed eyes, but he reaches for his bourbon glass instead.

Cyrus just tilts his head. He's glaring at the plate of food, and everyone can see the gears turning loudly in his head. Something about this isn't computing in his complicated mental processes.

"Is this what you Unovans eat all the time?" Giovanni plucks a thick lump, gives it a quick blow, and gingerly puts it in his mouth.

"Says the one who always eats spaghetti and meatballs," Ghetsis huffs.

Giovanni's smirk is bitter. "Do you want your hamburger and hot dog deep-fried?"

"Gentlemen!" Lysandre snaps before civil war can break out. He downs another glass of bourbon and sighs.

"It's not that bad," Archie says through a mouthful of cheese. "Ooh, there's a crunch! Bread crumbs? And there's a kick of heat too!"

Maxie scoops a piece of jalapeño into his mouth. "What is this, Ghetsis?"

"Mac 'n' cheese." Ghetsis dabs the pasta in the cheesy mixture. "Baked with bread crumbs and jalapeño."

"What is a 'mac?'" Cyrus says, turning to look at the chewing man.

Ghetsis shoots him a look before replying. "Macaroni."

Giovanni blinks. "Truly? This is an insult to macaroni everywhere." He takes a bite and washes it down with whiskey.

"I think it's pretty good." Archie wolfs down a wad of macaroni and cheese with a grin. "It's like okonomiyaki."

"Not really, but they're both hearty meals," Maxie murmurs as he nibbles on his food.

Ghetsis watches Cyrus put a crumb into his mouth before turning back to Giovanni. "Oh? So you think you can do better, old man?"

Giovanni taps his silver ring against the table. "I don't think. I know."

"Oh no." Lysandre helps himself to a generous amount of bourbon as things spiral out of his control.

"Prove it then, fossil."

"Fine! Name a place, a location, and the ingredient of your choice!'

"You're going to cheat anyways! Not all of us carry a gun!"

"Not all of us smack people with his cane—"

"Why don't you two have a cook-off?" Everyone stops to stare at Archie as he descends from above in a sea of shimmering light. Archie, though, remains oblivious as he helps himself to seconds of Ghetsis's comfort food.

The two parents glance at each other, a silent agreement passing between their brains.

"The kitchen's not big enough for that," Maxie says, indicating to the room in question. "I mean, it can fit two people, max, but any more and it'll turn into a giant mess."

"What a splendid idea." Lysandre's face is bit flushed. "Take risks. Make mistakes. Get messy. That's what entrepreneurship is all about…"

Ghetsis shoots the smiling businessman a crooked smirk. "Where's your stupid school bus?"

Lysandre blinks. "What…?"

Giovanni folds his hands below his chin. "A cook-off?" There's a dream-like quality to his voice. There's also something in his eyes that greatly unnerves Ghetsis, but the latter can't put his cane on it. "Hypothetically, if we were to have one, who would be the judges?"

Lsyandre's face brightens. "Moi, of course. I'd be honored to compare your cooking styles." He turns to the man beside him. "Care to help me, Cyrus?"

Cyrus's brows furrow. "I'm not much help in those areas." He dabs the macaroni in the cheesy gunk and nips the edge of the pasta. "Archie, I think you'd be a much more suitable candidate."

Archie beams. "Aw, thanks, buddy! Sure, Gio! I'd love to be a judge!'

"I'll do it too," Maxie says to no one's surprise. Ghetsis gasps loudly just because he can.

Then Maxie turns. "Cyrus, you should be the MC. Every good competition needs an MC."

Cyrus frowns. "Em-cee?"

"Master of Ceremonies." Archie bumps his friend on the shoulder. "Basically the person who announces stuff. No pressure, but you have the best voice to do it, Cyrus."

Cyrus is giving Archie a very strange look. The latter continues to smile as those hardened eyes burn a hole through his head.

"I've been told otherwise," Cyrus finally mutters, turning away.

Lysandre shakes his head. "Non. I think you'd be a great announcer, Cyrus. You have the capacity to enthrall audiences, to capture their attention and nab the moment in your grasp. I think all of us can attest to that."

Ghetsis clears his throat before Cyrus can melt into his sleeves. "A-Anyway, that's just lofty thinking. The food's getting cold. I'm not washing all your stupid dishes."

The room mumbles something and resumes their consumption of Ghetsis's nutritionally-defunct creation. After helping to clean the table and the house, the professors retreat back into their rooms.

"Cyrus."

The youngest professor stops and turns back. "Yes, Giovanni?"

Giovanni rises and walks over to his colleague with arms crossed. "I need your help with something tomorrow. Are you free?"

Something about Giovanni's eyes causes Cyrus's mouth to tug downwards. It's just the mischievous, child-like mirth that makes Cyrus a little on edge. Just a little.

And yet, is it wrong to say that it also amuses him? "All right, Giovanni. How can I help you?"

* * *

_It's that dream again. The dream of simpler times, of ice-cream and rainbows and sunshine wafting through the Zorua-printed curtains of the windows._

_"Dad!" The boy jumps on the bed, causing the man to stir slightly. "Dad, wake up!" When the man pulls the covers over his head, the boy leaps onto the lump with a delightful shriek._

_"N, don't you know what time it is?"_

_"Time to wake up, Dad!"_

_"But's it's Saturday…" Ghetsis reluctantly turns back to see a giant hammer in his son's hands._

_All notions of sleep are dashed out the window when N brings the tool down with a hard grunt, cleaving the bed in two and sending Ghetsis flying to the floor._

_"What the heck are doing?!" Ghetsis scrambles for the boy with both hands. A small voice in his mind whispers something about not moving his right hand, about not overworking himself… but as of right now, this giggling brat is all he can think about._

_N just laughs—a bright, innocent sound. "I'm going to be a **Worker** when I grow up, Dad! Like those men at Route 4!" _

_"No, you will not--!" Ghetsis's words warble into a scream when N produces a jackhammer from behind his back and flips the switch. The entire house sways sickeningly as if a stupid Krookadile had used Earthquake: Magnitude 10._

_"N, put that down right now!" Ghetsis grabs the boy, but the laughing brat slips from his grip and runs out of the debris-strewn room. When Ghetsis sees his son again, the boy is sitting inside a bulldozer, a crooked grin pasted on his ruddy face._

_"Dad, look! Look what I can do!' The bulldozer spins haphazardly, slicing a path of destruction across the sky. Ghetsis screeches as the iron ball barely misses his head and slams into the castle behind him. Shards of glass and chunks of brick land at Ghetsis' feet. "I'm destroying things! Wheeee!"_

_"Natural Harmonia Gropius, you will get down here! NOW!" Ghetsis dives as the iron ball whizzes across the grass. "NATRUAL! NOW!"_

_"Whee! Wheeeee! I'm the Hero of Legend!" The kid is laughing as the ground is cracking. As Ghetsis watches in horror, many jackhammers plunge into the earth from the sky, creating massive meteor-like indentions in their wake. **KRSH!! BOOOM!** His eardrums cry to the sound of snapping saws. The cacophony of the construction quarry blossoms and swells until it explodes in a deafening crescendo. _

_And there's his son, leading the composition with the swaying crane of the bulldozer. Father and child lock eyes, and N grins._

_"Wake up, Dad!" he chirps as the iron ball covers the sun. "The cook-off is today!"_

* * *

Ghetsis awakens to hair in his mouth and the sun in his eyes. He immediately bolts up and winces as his right side bursts into pain.

"Stupid arm," he hisses. The man shrugs the dream from his waking consciousness and gropes for the familiar grip of his cane. He pushes himself from the bed and hobbles to the door, creaking it open slightly to peek down the empty hallways of Giovani's mansion.

"Morning, Ghetsis!" Archie yanks the door open, much to Ghetsis's shock. The stupid hippie is dragging a Kyogre plush behind him. Again. "You're up early today!'

Maxie pokes his ruffled head from behind his friend's back. Ghetsis catches the Groudon plush in the nerd's hands. "Oh. Ghetsis, it's not even noon yet."

"Be quiet, you fools!" Ghetsis glares around the sunlit home. "What the heck was that?"

"What?" Archie and Maxie exchange a confused look.

"That noise!" Ghetsis waves his good hand through the peaceful, blissful air. "That… construction noise!"

Maxie rubs his eyes. "I didn't hear anything."

"Me neither," his best friend says.

"I can ask Lysandre." Maxie yawns as he shuffles to the only closed door in the hall. He raises a hand and knocks. "Lysandre, are you awake? Ghetsis said he heard a loud noise. Do you know what he's talking about?"

"What?" A muffled voice squeezes through the crack on the bottom of the heavy wooden door. "Ghetsis is awake? This early?"

"Watch it, you Pyroar-fanatic!" Ghetsis rams his cane against Lysandre's door.

"P-Pardon moi? What did you call me? How dare you make fun of my precious—"

But as soon as Archie's paw closes over the doorknob, Lysandre yells, "Non! Don’t come in!"

"Why?" Archie's grip tightens over the knob. "Something wrong in there, Lysandre?!"

"Nothing! I am not presentable at this moment! It's not beautiful!" A dull thump sounds on the floor beyond the door. A disgruntled meow from his Pyroar.

"Whatever." Ghetsis juts his chin towards the other two doors. "Where are those two? They're up early."

"You're the one that's up early," Maxie mutters. Ghetsis shoots him a glare that falls short on the man's fuzzy eyesight. "I think they're outside. As soon as I get my glasses, we'll go have a look."

After the professors are cleansed and dressed and Lysandre finally made himself presentable, the four men amble to the woods surrounding Giovanni's estate. It's in the topiary garden that they find the other two professors staring at the large garden shed.

"Yo!" Giovanni jumps at Archie's sudden proclamation. Cyrus, on the other hand, turns and nods to the group.

"What's with that?" Ghetsis points to the blueprints in Cyrus's hands. "You making yourself some toys again?"

"I don't make… toys. They're just contraptions I happen to put together." Cyrus scans the blueprints for a second longer before looking up. "I was helping Giovanni with something. We're right on schedule too, as everything is completed before lunchtime." Then he raises a brow. "Speaking of which, you're unusually early for a Saturday, Ghetsis."

"Be quiet you little fr—brat." Ghetsis snaps his jaw and looks away. Archie and Maxie are snickering, and Lysandre looks more amused than anything. "I was sleeping until some moron started pounding on the pavement."

Giovanni steps forward with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face. "Oh, is that so? Well, you're welcome, Ghetsis."

Ghetsis slams his cane onto the dewy ground. "Listen here, you back-alley thug—"

"Would you all like to see the inside?" Cyrus's monotone immediately renders Ghetsis's insult insignificant. Archie nods and eagerly waves Maxie forward. Lysandre crosses his arms, humming softly as he steps over the threshold. Giovanni's smirk only curls as Ghetsis surrenders to his morbid curiosity and follows Cyrus into the shed.

"What in Groudon's name…" Maxie's jaw drops. The "shed" is the same size as a luxury studio, with high ceilings and giant, towering windows that let in the maximum amount of sunlight. An array of colorful ingredients lines the walls behind two fully-functioning kitchens.

No, not kitchenettes.

_Kitchens._

"By Yveltal's Oblivion Wing…" Lysandre gasps. There's even a logo on the judge's satin-lined table: a red and black sign with "RR Cook-Off" emblazoned with the colors of the rainbow.

Giovanni crosses his arms, looking smug and confident. "Silver and I used to watch cooking shows. I thought our little cook-off would be a nice tribute to my favorite pastime."

Ghetsis takes his sixth look around the "shed" before turning back to the man of power and influence. And money. "You're mad," is all Ghetsis can say from whatever breath that's left in his lungs.

"This is beautiful!" Lysandre swarms to admire the impromptu battleground. "Oh, look at this wood lining! And this stainless steel countertop! With granite, no less!" His eyes widen considerably. "Don't tell me--! Is this a _mezzaluna?"_

"Who do you think I am, Lysandre?" Giovanni nods as Archie picks up the moon-shaped knife with quivering hands. Maxie is telling him to be careful by launching into a tirade about blood loss and stupidity.

"You _are_ mad," Ghetsis repeats, still lost in his daze. _Just how wealthy is Giovanni?!!_

"Money is not a problem," Giovanni answers Ghetsis's unspoken question. "And besides, don't you own a castle back at Unova?"

Cyrus clears his throat to bring the professors' attentions back to earth. "Archie, Maxie, and Lysandre, you will sit there, at the judges' table." There's nothing in his voice to betray his excitement. "Giovanni and Ghetsis will come in after they're introduced."

Archie is literally bouncing with glee. "Then what? Then what?!"

Cyrus emits a soft noise in his throat at Archie's jubilance. "If I'm understanding Giovanni's intentions correctly, you three will taste three sets of dishes: appetizer, entrée, and desert. After your careful judgement, you will determine the winner from amongst these two."

Maxie readjusts his glasses. "Quick question, Cyrus. Erm… what exactly _is_ an appetizer and an entrée? Where we come from, we don't usually have portions like that."

Archie nods. "Hoenn doesn't discriminate amongst food. I see something, and I eat it. I don't classify it as such."

"Ah. That's…" Cyrus frowns. "That's a very valid question." He turns to the aristocrats. "Giovanni, Ghetsis, Lysandre… would you mind explaining those concepts again?"

The three taller men glance at each other.

Then Ghetsis waves a dismissive hand. "Doesn't matter. All we have to do is use whatever ingredients are in those baskets, right?"

Giovanni raises a brow. "Oh? So you've watched it too, Ghetsis?"

"I am not an uncultured Swinub." Ghetsis grits his teeth and rams his cane against the scarlet rug. Cyrus frowns. "I was forced to, anyhow. Totally wasn't my idea to begin with."

"Sure, sure." Ghetsis thinks twice about smacking Giovanni's kneecaps. _I've seen this troll lift Archie as if it's nothing. A mafia boss like him might be carrying a gun right now. That fat bulge in his pocket might be his wallet or… Better to be safe than sorry._

Maxie is smiling at Cyrus, who looks more confused by the second. "So will you be our honorary Master of Ceremonies, Cyrus?"

The younger man's lips are set in a tight line… until the ice melts from his eyes at his colleague's eager faces. "Very well." There's a slight flush in his ears. "I'll try my best not to disappoint."

"You'll do fine." Giovanni gives a quick pat to Cyrus's head. Then he turns to his rival with renewed fire in his dark eyes.

"Well then… shall we get started, Ghetsis?"

It takes a while for Ghetsis' brain to catch up to the present. He shakes his head and straightens, his usual smugness returning. "Fine. I'll accept your invitation, Giovanni. I can't wait to see the look on your face when you've lost all hope!"

Giovanni chuckles, a heavy, dangerous sound. "Very well, Ghetsis. Prepare to feel a world of pain!"


	10. The Cook-Off Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giovanni and Ghetsis declare total war. Archie sucks at his job. Lysandre is a picky eater, and Maxie might be the only sane one. Cyrus breaks many walls because he's the MC.

"Welcome, everyone, to the first-annual Rainbow Rocket Cook-Off." Cyrus bows. "Thank you for joining us today. My name is Cyrus, and I'll be your em-cee for this chapter."

"He's a really strong speaker," Maxie mutters to his judges. Lysandre looks slightly amused. "But he's so monotone."

"His hands are trembling." Archie's brow is wrinkled. "And who is he talking to? The camera? I think he's taking this way too seriously."

Lysandre hushes the two men. Cyrus hears that though, and he turns. There's a slight flush to his pale face. The older professors quickly give him warm words of encouragement.

Cyrus turns back to the audience with reddened ears. "For new and returning readers, we have a special episode planned for you all today." Archie elbows Maxie. The latter hisses to his friend to shut up. "Now then, please allow me to introduce our first competitor: Mister Giovanni."

Archie breaks into thunderous applause. His fellow judges clap politely. Giovanni marches from the back room with wide, confident strides as if he'd just defeated the Champion of Sinnoh without expending a Revive. He stands behind his kitchen and nonchalantly flexes his muscles.

His smugness falters when Cyrus up holds the microphone. "What, Cyrus?"

"You have to tell the audience your background," the MC says flatly. "You told me that these cooking shows usually introduce the competitors before the event starts."

"O-Oh." Giovanni loosens his collar. He glances around the room. "Y-Yes. Well, my name is Giovanni—"

Archie slaps the table. "YEAH! YEAH, GIO! EVERYONE, I KNOW THAT MAN!!"

"WE ALL KNOW THAT MAN!" Maxie roars. "ARCHIE, CALM DOWN!"

Lysandre has his hands over his ears. "Do you have any cooking experience, Giovanni?"

"Erm. Yes. I used to cook for my son."

"Oh, so a househusband, right?"

"Hell no, I—"

"How many restaurants do you own, Monsieur Giovanni? Do you own any food trucks? Any caf _ **é**_ s under your name?"

"Erm—"

"Your favorite pastimes? Your hopes and aspirations? Why do you think you should win this Cook-Off?"

Giovanni clicks his teeth. "Not everyone owns a stupid café with his name on it, Lysandre."

Lysandre sighs. "I know. What a shame."

"Thank you, Mister Giovanni," Cyrus says. He turns to Lysandre. "And judges, please refrain from asking the chefs questions that they might not wish to answer."

Lysandre makes a displeased sound in his throat. "But that's what you do on television," he mutters to his ignorant colleagues. _Indeed, the pitfalls of fame is not having anyone to sympathize with you…_

Cyrus flicks his gaze somewhere else. "And now, please allow me to introduce our next contestant: Mister Ghetsis."

Ghetsis makes his appearance with his voice. "YOU KNOW THAT'S RIGHT!" He storms into the stage, hair flaring at his back like a cape. He swirls to his kitchen, cackles, and tosses his cloak to Cyrus's head. The latter wordlessly picks it off and stares at it for the longest time ever.

"Mister Ghetsis, please be mindful," Cyrus says without a change in tone. "You've created a tripping hazard that could potentially cause life-threatening injuries." He raises a brow. "Especially with your situation. You should be most careful."

Cyrus leaves to hang Ghetsis's cloak somewhere else. While the youngest professor is gone, everyone glares daggers at Ghetsis until his face burns a deep red. He turns away and busies himself with cleaning the spotless granite counter top.

Then Cyrus is back. "Mister Ghetsis," he says. "Can you tell us more about yourself?"

"Huh? Oh. Oh, sure." Ghetsis coughs loudly and unnecessarily. "Myahaha... Well, I can make a mean vegan steak. I was also on Unova's Meat Masters for three consecutive seasons! Any vegetarians in the house?"

The judges look at each other. Giovanni snorts. Cyrus just blinks. Ghetsis flushes again. "A-Anyway, whether it be vegan, vegetarian, or meat, I'll win."

Cyrus nods. "We appreciate your enthusiasm, Mister Ghetsis." His voice never breaks monotone. Giovanni snickers, much to Ghetsis's exasperation.

Then Cyrus lifts his head. "All right, everyone. Please do not open the baskets unless otherwise stated to do so. There will be three rounds: the desert round and two other big dish rounds."

"Who the heck decided desert was first?" Ghetsis grumbles.

Archie waves. 

"At the end of each round, judges will give their opinions on your dishes," Cyrus continues. "Is there anything I can clarify? If not, please lift your baskets! The Cook-Off begins now!"

The two parents do just that. Giovanni frowns as he stares the ingredients: whole milk and cane sugar.

"That's it?" Ghetsis echoes his disbelief.

"Yes," Cyrus says. The two parents wait for justification that never comes.

Back at the judges' table, Archie is bouncing in his seat. "Kyogre's got _nothing_ on this! I can't wait! What are they gonna make?"

"There's no limits, but that's also the downside to choice." Maxie leans forward in his plush chair. _Giovanni really went all out on this, huh?_ "There's the time constraint, so they can't really do anything too fancy."

"Dishes are judged on creativity, presentation, and taste," Lsyandre adds. "A simple dish is great, yes, but you won't win by having just the bare minimum."

Ghetsis's kitchen is already a mess. Cyrus shyly peeks from beyond the counter top. "Ghetsis, what are you making?" The younger man eyes the giant pitchers of cream and milk.

Ghetsis looks at Cyrus. "Ice-cream."

"What?" Giovanni explodes from the other side. " _I'm_ making ice-cream!"

"You're copying me?!" Ghetsis snaps, brandishing a batter-coated whisker. "Go steal some Pokemon or something!"

"Gentlemen, please!" Lysandre yells. He gropes around for a nonexistent glass of champagne, groaning when the revelation hits him.

"Well, _my_ ice-cream's going to be better! No surprise there!" Ghetsis turns to Cyrus. "Notice anything interesting, you little brat?"

Cyrus's brows furrow. He shakes his head.

"Hah! Well, I'm not using eggs!" Ghetsis winks. "Unlike traditional ice-cream that uses egg yolks, I'm creating something else entirely! I've picked up on this technique while at a seashore city at Unova. It will be magnificent!"

"Interesting." Maxie's eyebrows are high in his hairline. "Color me intrigued."

"You are very knowledgeable, Ghetsis." Cyrus then strays to the other side. "And what are you making, Giovanni?"

"Well, kid, I'm making gelato… but with my own special twist." The man spreads his hands over his aromatic kitchen space. "Unlike a certain Lettuce-Head—"

"Hey! I'm not frickin' deaf!"

"—I'd prefer to stay humble." Giovanni shows Cyrus his mixing bowl. The batter gleams like threads of gold.

"Two minutes, people!" Archie bangs his fists on the table. The two dads finally look at the clock for the first time, and the exasperation on their faces show it.

"Time is up!" Maxie declares, slamming the buzzer. The parents drop whatever they're doing and step back to marvel at the masterpieces.

Archie is the first to offer his judgement. He licks the plates clean and even kisses his fingers. "Wow! So awesome!"

"Archie, you're supposed to sample _one_ dish at a time!" Maxie speaks as if he's scolding a ten-year old child. "You're a judge, remember?" 

"Hehe. Oops." Archie isn't remorseful in the slightest.

Maxie sighs. "For the next round, we should have each contestant present their dishes one at a time." Everyone instantly agrees to his suggestion. 

Lysandre slides a fancy silver spoon into Giovanni's ice-cream. He manages to make smacking his lips the most refined sound in the world. "Ah. Gelato, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, yes. I find the color to be very beautiful—as pale and lucid as the first rose of spring."

"It's not poetry class," Ghetsis mutters, snickering at his own joke.

Lysandre shoots him a frown. "Anyhow, you've made good on your milk. This creamy consistency… silky and smooth. I'm tasting… apricot?"

"And lavender." Giovanni crosses his arms. "With a hint of avocado and plum."

Lysandre nods. "Beautiful. _C'est magnifique,_ Monsieur Giovanni. Very, very beautiful."

"Pssh. It's nothing," Giovanni says as his cheeks turn slightly red. Lysandre polishes the gelato and moves on to Ghetsis's dish.

"Hmmhmm?" Lysandre takes another spoonful. "Ghetsis. You made this?"

"What the heck is that supposed to mean, you dandy?"

"Just curious." Lysandre dabs his lips with a satin napkin. "You didn't use eggs in this ice-cream, right?"

"No." Ghetsis drums his fingers against his calf. "Philly ice-cream doesn't need eggs to be tasty."

"I see. Well, this one isn't as rich as Giovanni's." Lysandre spreads his hands in a slight shrug. "But the flavors are much more pronounced." He smacks his lips. Elegantly. "Not as custardy as Kalosian ice-cream. Very refreshing. I taste… mint? Basil?"

Ghetsis snorts. "Banana. I crushed some almonds and did indeed use basil. I added a pinch of bourbon for flavor." The aristocrat is nodding in appreciation. "Oh, and there's peanut butter too."

Lysandre stops eating. "P-Peanut butter? Why in the world would you add something so vulgar—"

"Are you dissing peanut butter?" Archie growls, much to the aristocrat's surprise. "No one calls peanut butter disgusting!"

Maxie scoops into the gelato as his colleagues argue about the legitimacy of peanut butter. "Oh, this is very nice and sweet," he says. "Creamy. I love the apricot flavor, Giovanni."

"O-Oh. Thank you."

"Of course. Now for Ghetsis's…" Maxie allows the flavor to mellow on his tongue. "Interesting. It's light and not hard at all to swallow. It just melts in my mouth! Like lava!"

"I don’t think that's a good comparison," Archie murmurs.

Cyrus waits a good five minutes before speaking. "Have the judges decided their pick?"

Giovanni holds up a hand. "Cyrus, wait. Here. Try some gelato."

"No thank you, Giovanni. I'm not a judge."

"What's wrong with just eating it just for the joy of eating it?" Ghetsis remembers the last time he gave this kid some ice-cream. _That experience was as bitter as it was sweet._ "Everyone's eating some. Here, I'm giving some to the old man. Now it makes sense for you to accept it too, no?"

Giovanni nods. "See? I'm also giving this unsavory Lettuce-Head some gelato too." He nudges the bowl into Cyrus's hands. " We don't exclude anyone my household."

Cyrus reluctantly accepts the gifts. His brow is scrunched as he tries to comprehend the scene before him. "Do you mind if I bring some help?" he says softly.

The parents glance at each other. "Sure…?"

Cyrus nods and reaches for his Poke ball. Upon seeing its Trainer, Weavile's face bursts into a sunny grin. He bends to scratch the cat's ears. "Hello, Weavile. Can you help me finish this? I know you have quite a problematic sweet tooth."

Weavile eagerly accepts the ice-cream. The cat and its Trainer finish the frozen treat in silence as everyone watches with bated breath.

"It's edible," Cyrus says. Weavile laughs and holds up the chosen bowl.

Ghetsis cackles loudly and obnoxiously. "Hah! I won!"

"No, you didn't!" Giovanni snarls. "Idiot! Cyrus isn't a judge! And besides, you have two more rounds for me to kick your sorry ass!"

"He's right," Maxie says. "You two should be thinking about your next dishes. You're working under a time constraint."

"And we need to discuss the scores." Lysandre flicks his hands. "Go now. There's a waiting area in the back. Air-conditioned, I may add. Go, go!"

The two rivals grumble something unintelligent but nevertheless leave the stage.

* * *

"Holy Kyogre that was epic!" Archie beams, leaning back in his plush chair. "I made sure to eat nice and slow to avoid another brain-freeze. You proud of me, Maxie?"

Maxie sighs and takes off his glasses. "What am I, your mom? You're a grown man, Archie, but you act like a silly child sometimes. Look at Cyrus. He's the youngest, but he's much more mature than a bearded man like you!"

Cyrus is wholly absorbed in petting Weavile's head. He seems to be deep in thought about something.

Lysandre gently clears his throat. "Cyrus," he says. The younger man blinks. "What's with the long face? Cheer up, friend!"

Archie sets a paw on his colleague's shoulder. "Turn that frown upside down, buddy! Our readers want to see that beautiful smile of yours!"

Cyrus blinks again. Weavile brings the microphone up to his chin. "Oh. Thank you, Weavile." He stands and dusts his slacks. "You're right, Archie. There's still two more rounds to this battle. I'm thankful to be part of this experience… and I am genuinely curious to see who will emerge victorious." Despite the habitual monotone of his, there's a light in Cyrus's eyes. 

"It's obvious who will win." Lysandre smirks.

"I wouldn't say that," Maxie huffs. "You never know until the end. If anything, we might be looking at a twist ending."

"What's going on out there?" Giovanni shouts from the backroom. "What ending? What are you four conspiring about?"

"Giovanni's right. We should be starting." Weavile latches itself onto his shoulders. Cyrus closes his eyes and inhales. "Judges, be ready. Contestants, please come out. Round Two is about to begin."

* * *

"The next stage is soup," Cyrus announces with a swing of his hand. "Our contestants have been provided their baskets—"

"Soup! Aw right, the best course of the day!"

"Archie, you are not the MC!" Maxie groans. "Calm down! There are people reading this!"

Lysandre sighs into his hands. "You two are like bickering children!"

"Archie's right," Ghetsis says from his kitchen. "Considering how I'm the one that's cooking, you have every right to be amazed."

Giovanni rolls his eyes. "Oh please. _My_ skills will knock the living daylights out of all of you!"

Cyrus is standing very still until Weavile bashes his kneecaps. "That was unnecessary, Weavile." He scowls, much to the cat's amusement. "Anyhow… Giovanni and Ghetsis, please get into position. You have twenty minutes to prepare the soup dish. And the time starts… now!"

Giovanni flings his basket open. "This!" he shouts. "Oh, I'm going to win with this for sure!"

"Think again." Ghetsis sets his ingredient on the cutting board. "There can only be one winner, and you're looking at him."

As the two men scurry to find their equipment, Cyrus drifts to the judges' table with his microphone in hand.

"We picked bacon because it's a common ingredient," Archie says, waving to the camera.

"You begged us to pick it," Maxie mutters. He turns to the audience. "This fish-brain got hungry at the thought of the Cook-Off. Since we don’t usually make breakfast on the weekends, he wanted to make up for his missing meal."

"But why pork bacon?" Lysandre shakes his head. "It's not even lean. At least go for turkey bacon…"

Archie laughs. "Then it wouldn't be bacon now will it, Lion-man?"

"Ghetsis, what the hell are you doing?" Giovanni says when Ghetsis begins to carve the filling out of the freshly toasted bread. "You're wasting food."

Ghetsis scoffs and shoves a handful of clams into a boiling pot. "Don't you even think of copying me, old man!"

"You took the words right from my mouth." Giovanni chops his tomatoes into fleshy, square chunks. He then moves on to grating the parmesan. "And why are you putting heavy cream into soup?"

"I don't tell you how to live your life!" Ghetsis brings his knife down onto the poor potatoes, splitting them in half like victims of the guillotine.

Lysandre listens to this strange interaction with wide eyes. "Amazing," he whispers. "They never cease to amaze me."

"Look at Ghetsis." Archie points to the flash of green. "He's cooking with just one hand! I bet he's all muscle under that shirt!"

"He can use his other hand, but just not that often," Maxie says. "Archie, look at Giovanni. He looks… almost maniacal. I don't think it's safe to approach him when he's holding that knife."

Weavile claps its hand when Giovanni employs the _mezzaluna_ to finely dice scallions. Cyrus's gaze is glued to the art form at work, everything around him forgotten just for this moment.

Giovanni suddenly gasps. "Ghetsis? What in Mew's name happened to you? The shock of defeat must be hard on you…"

Ghetsis wipes the tears from his eyes. "Be quiet, you hypocrite! Can't you see the onions? Oh, wait, is it hard to see through those tears? Why don't you borrow glasses from the nerd over there?"

"Hey!" Maxie's face is bright red like his turtleneck. Archie loses it, and Lysandre snorts loudly. "Keep me out of this! I'm just a judge!"

Cyrus shuffles to the kitchens, Weavile skipping at his side. He holds the cat up so it can see the mess. Giovanni beckons his colleague forward. "Cyrus! Here, taste this. Let me know what you think."

"Oh. I…" Weavile swipes the taster from Giovanni's hands. Cyrus frowns, but the cat just giggles and holds the dish up to his lips. After much coaxing from his Pokemon, Cyrus allows himself a small sip.

"It's edible," he says in monotone.

"I knew you'd say that." Giovanni chuckles and returns to seasoning his soup.

"Hey, Cyrus!" The MC stiffens. "Cyrus, come here!" The professor braces himself and steps into Ghetsis's kitchen. The giant is brewing some sort of thick white liquid in a pot. Upon closer inspection, Cyrus can see chunks of bacon, clams, and potatoes swimming around in the sea of white.

"No fair that the old man made you taste his soup." Ghetsis shoves the taster into Cyrus's face. Weavile swipes the dish and licks it clean.

 _"Nyeehhh?"_ The Pokemon squints into the soup, as if there's something that only it can see.

"Weavile?" Cyrus's monotone shows the slightest hint of faltering. "Weavile, what is it? You want me to taste it?" Weavile nods. Its Trainer stares into the murky broth… and takes a hesitant sip. 

"Cyrus?" Ghetsis says when the younger man suddenly stiffens. An odd expression crosses the latter's face, a very undecipherable type of look. Then Cyrus hugs Weavile tighter to his chest and turns away.

"Time's up!" Maxie announces. "Contestants, please bring your dishes to the judges! Giovanni, you'll go first this time."

Giovanni presents his dish. Lysandre's eyes widen at the baby-blue mugs of steamy red soup. "This is beautiful," he sighs. "The cilantro garnish is simple, yet it adds an elegant flair to your dish. Oh, and there's a slice of toasted bread as well?"

Archie and Maxie are whispering something. They wave Cyrus over, and soon the three men are pointing to Giovanni's plate as if something just exploded in there.

"What?" the chef snaps.

"Giovanni." Maxie sets his chin on his folded hands. "You… have corrected vision, right?"

Giovanni blinks. "Erm. Well, I do have reading glasses, but I can see perfectly well without them. Why?"

Archie points to the mystery in question. "Giovanni. What is this?"

"Minestrone?" Lysandre says, his eyebrow raised.

Archie shakes his head. "No, not that. _That."_

Giovanni scratches his head. "That's bread, Archie. You dip the bread into the soup. That's the sauce, Maxie. Olive oil with various seasonal herbs."

"I see that," Cyrus says. "But why did you put the sauce _around_ the dish? If I'm seeing this correctly, you're dressing the plate, not the food."

Giovanni looks at Ghetsis who looks at Lysandre, who purses his lips. The chef clears his throat. "That's… that's the presentation aspect, Cyrus."

"There's a presentation aspect?" Archie grunts. Everyone stares at him.

"What in holy Groudon have we been doing all this time then, Archie?" Maxie shakes his head. "Actually, forget it. Let's move on to Giovanni's soup… Ah! This… this tastes just like tomato soup!"

Giovanni isn't sure whether that was even praise. He does feel a bit disappointed, though. "That's because it is," he mumbles.

"It's really good!" Archie tears a fluffy chunk of bread and dabs it all over the sauce-crusted plate. "The bread's nice and sweet! And the soup is awesome!"

"Gentlemen, you have the manners of a barbarian's." Lysandre the surgeon is operating on his bread with his knife and fork, creating an incision straight down the fleshy middle. "This is beautiful," he says, covering a hand over his mouth. "You've managed to incorporate the essence of bacon wonderfully into the minestrone, Giovanni. Not too strong to overwhelm the flavor of garlic. There's just enough to retain an earthy aftertaste." A serene smile blossoms on his lips. "Yes, and using just olive oil in the dipping sauce contrasts with the heavy flavor of the soup. Beautifully done, Giovanni."

"O-Of course. As expected." Giovanni holds his head high. There's a slight flush across his face. Archie and Maxie have been listening to Lysandre's speech with gaping mouths.

"Thank you, judges," Cyrus says. Weavile gives them the two claws-up. "Ghetsis. You are next."

"Finally!" The second contestant sets the steaming bread bowls before the stunned judges. "This! Is clam chowder. I focused on the northern version, so I made my broth thick instead of using tomato or clear stock."

"This… why is the soup in the bread?" Lysandre messages his very clean and well-moisturized hands. "You have bowls. Why do you have to get your hands dirty just to eat soup?"

Ghetsis blinks. "Really? You're really asking me this?"

"I've never seen this type of soup before," Maxie murmurs. He's so close to the bowl that his glasses fog up. "I never knew you could have milky soup. This is exciting!"

"I smell seafood!" Archie licks his lips. "Clams! Ghetsis, how do you eat this?"

Ghetsis clicks his teeth. "What are you, ten? There's really no set rule on how to eat food."

Archie utters an "ah" sound. He taps the crust with his finger. Then he tears a crispy chunk of bread and dips it in the soup. Upon consumption, Archie's eyes widen considerably. "Woah. Woah… so that's why Cyrus… Yo, Maxie, check this out. It's sick."

Maxie repeats Archie's method of eating, but he does so with a bit more elegance. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline. The friends exchange surprised looks.

Ghetsis scowls. "What the heck is the matter with you two? Spit it out!"

"Ghetsis." Archie closes his eyes. "Ghetsis… this IS AMAZING! AWESOMELY AMAZING! I've never eaten clam chowder before! I never thought I'd be excited about soggy bacon! Holy Kyogre this is my new comfort food. Goodbye, _onsen yudofu,_ hello clam chowder!"

"Knowing you, you'll go back for the hot-spring boiled tofu tomorrow." Maxie slathers the chowder onto his bread and bites. And soon he's tipping the bowl and inhaling all the soup. "I love how it's nice and hot. It's like hugging Numel when the weather is cold outside."

Ghetsis listens to this with feigned boredom. "Yeah, yeah." His voice catches a bit, but no one notices. _Thank Kyruem._ Then when he looks at the aristocrat, his smirk turns upside down. "Hey, Lion-face. The bread's getting soggy."

Lysandre frowns. He uses his knife to poke the bread bowl, and after a few attempts of unsuccessfully cutting it apart, he resigns to sniffing the food. "There's a lot happening here," he mutters. "I've never seen such a display, nor ever tasted such a broth. Yes, I taste the chicken stock… and the heavy cream? And milk? The bacon juice is evenly distributed into each spoonful…" He winces as if his entire jaw is hurting. "It's… new."

Ghetsis taps his foot. "So what the heck are you trying to say, Humpty-Dumpty?"

Lysandre frowns again. He wipes his hands on his silk handkerchief. "I'm saying that I've made my decision."

"So did I!" Archie shouts.

"Same here," Maxie adds.

Cyrus pops into sight, causing the two contestants to jump. "Lysandre," he says. "Are you finishing that?"

"Eh? Er… you can have it, Cyrus. Er. Here. It's yours."

"Thank you." As soon as Cyrus sets his cat free, Weavile lunges for the clam chowder and stuffs its face with bread.

Then Cyrus clears his throat, bringing the attention back to the game. "All right then, contestants. There will be a brief intermission. The next round will begin in five minutes."

* * *

"Thank you for joining us again. The third and final round of the Cook-Off will begin momentarily."

Archie chuckles. Cyrus turns, his brow raised. "Oh no," the older man says. "You do you, Cyrus. I think our readers appreciate you interacting with them."

Maxie peers into the camera. "We _are_ recording this, right?"

Lysandre nods. "Giovanni wants proof of his victory. I also don't mind us saving a record of this. It'll be fun to watch again during rainy days and the sort."

Weavile leaps into Cyrus's arms. He scratches the cat behind its crown. "This is indeed interesting. Giovanni and Ghetsis have displayed remarkable culinary talent. You are enjoying this as well, aren't you, Weavile?"

The cat laughs and pokes its Trainer in the cheek.

"And what about you, Cyrus?" Maxie says with a grin. "Are you having fun as well?"

Cyrus keeps his head down. "Yes," he says softly. He awaits their reaction, and to his surprise, his colleagues have nothing but mirth on their faces. They're smiling with all the sincerity in the world. 

The youngest professor immediately turns away. Weavile chuckles and prods at his reddened earlobes.

"Hey!" Ghetsis shouts from the backroom. "What are you Bidoofs doing? I have a Cook-Off to win!"

"Are you placing bets?" Giovanni growls. "You can't place bets in a cooking competition! It's just not right!"

"They're all fired up to win," Lysandre mutters, straightening his satin handkerchief.

Archie elbows his aristocratic friend. "They're both crazy. That's why it's so much fun just to guess what they'll cook up next."

Cyrus is chasing Weavile around the room after the cat ran off with his microphone. "Weavile!" The Pokemon freezes. He looms before the cat, his hands linked behind his back, looking as intimidating as a frozen sentinel. "Weavile, I need that. That's my job as the em-cee. I'll make you some sweet poffins later. Weavile. _Now."_

Weavile reluctantly relinquishes control of the microphone. The cat averts its gaze to its feet. Archie whispers something to Maxie, who chuckles good-naturedly. Lysandre finds himself laughing along. Cyrus finally sighs and allows the apologetic Pokemon to reclaim its spot on his shoulders.

Then Cyrus brings the microphone to his lips. "I apologize for the inconvenience, everyone. Now, let the third and final battle commence!"

* * *

"I think both of our contestants are familiar with the rules by now," Cyrus begins. The two rivals glare at each other. "The final dish is a freestyle. Your item has been provided in the basket. You have fifty minutes, and time starts… now!"

Giovanni lifts the basket's cover. "Hah!" He lifts the ingredient into the air. "My expertise! You will rue the day you dare to cross paths with me, Ghetsis!"

"You underestimate me, Giovanni," is the snarky remark. "Pitiful. Don't forget that _I_ made the mac and cheese that you all so greedily stuffed your faces in!"

Archie waves Cyrus over to the judges' corner. "We picked cheese because it's a versatile ingredient," he explains.

"It was a bargain buy," Maxie adds. "Mozzarella cheese, to be precise. There's a lot of dishes they can make."

"We could've bought the artisan cheese," Lysandre grumbles. "It's only 1600 Poke. What can you possibly make from cheap cheese? You're only compromising the quality."

Archie's shoulders droop. "But Maxie and I always shop for that cheese…"

Maxie shoots his wealthy colleague a glare. "You'd be surprised at what commoners can do with 'cheap' stuff, Lysandre." 

Back at the busy kitchens, Giovanni has his ingredients spread out on the table. He preheats the oven and returns to smacking his dough.

"Why are you hitting your food?" Cyrus asks.

"I'm getting rid of air bubbles," the older man explains. Weavile tilts its head, intrigued. Giovanni chuckles and reaches for the rolling pin. "You don't want air bubbles in food, kid. It won't be a pretty sight."

Cyrus looks at the numerous cheeses at Giovanni's workstation. "I never knew cheese came in so many varieties."

Giovanni laughs. "I think you'd like blue cheese, Cyrus. Oh, and you absolutely _must_ taste my _quattro formaggi_ pizza. I'll save some for you and your Weavile."

A loud gasp erupts from the other kitchen. Ghetsis catches his dough before it could slip through his fingers. "Old man!" he snarls. "I'm doing pizza! Don’t copy me!"

"You copied _me!"_ Giovanni retorts. Cyrus grabs Weavile and sneaks back to the judges' table. _"I'm_ making pizza! It only makes sense for me to make it! Stick with your damn hot dog!"

"You egotistical ingrate—"

"Excuse me," Maxie says calmly. "You two _do_ realize that you only have thirty minutes left, right?"

The competitors stare at each other in shock.

"Whatever, nerds." Ghetsis storms back to the produce section to swipe a bowl of multicolored chili peppers. "Your pizza is inferior to mine anyhow."

"You're as lofty as your ego." Giovanni slams his rolling pin on the table. The dough's cries reach deaf ears. "No, talking is pointless. We settle this like men!"

Back at the corner of sense and reason, Maxie grows increasingly concerned by the minute. "There's only thirty minutes left," he says to his colleagues. "Will they have enough time to bake?"

"They'll find a way." Lysandre taps his fingers against his chin. "They're cra—They're very resourceful."

Then Weavile begins to cough. Cyrus's frowns when the cat displays the tell-tale sign of tears. "Weavile?" His usually stoic voice wavers slightly. "Is there something in the air? Here, drink the Fresh Water. Slowly, Weavile. We don't want a repeat of last time…"

Archie hacks a horrible cough that shakes his shoulders. Panic slips into Maxie's face. Lysandre's about to speak when his words are cut by a gasp for air.

Cyrus and Maxie match gaze. "You… _did_ include fire alarms here, right, Cyrus?"

"Of course I did, Maxie. But I don't think anything is burning. It looks like Ghetsis is making something in that bowl of his… that's the most likely cause…"

Maxie shoves the Fresh Water into Archie's face. "Archie, you idiot! Hurry up and drink the water! Drink it, don't inhale it! Seriously, Archie, you're a grown man!" Then Maxie's nose twitches. "Wait. I think… I think Ghetsis is making some sort of chili."

"He's gone mad," Lysandre wheezes. Cyrus rushes to some sort of control panel on the wall and slams some buttons. The glass panes slide down, and soon sweet, sweet air gushes into the suffocating room.

The two contestants are wholly absorbed in their cooking to pay any mind to the chaos around them.

"Ten minutes!" Maxie says while patting a sputtering Archie on the back.

Weavile looks up from its Fresh Water and tugs its Trainer's sleeve. "Hmm? They should be about done, Weavile. Yes, you'll get your share soon. Just focus on regaining your breath."

"One minute!" Lysandre croaks.

The competitors are working in cadence, each chop handled with deliberate calibration, each flick of the hand timed in tempo.

"Four seconds!" Maxie yells.

"Three!" Archie wipes the tears from his eyes. "Two!"

"One." Cyrus finishes, and Weavile claps its claws. "Contestants, please step away from your stations."

Giovanni casts a glance at his sweat-soaked rival and says, "I guess you can handle yourself with one arm, eh, Ghetsis?"

"My dear Giovanni. Tsk, tsk." Ghetsis wags a finger in the air. "I'm surprised you didn't pull out your hip yet."

"Who's first?" Archie bounces his fists against the table. "Giovanni?"

Giovanni presents his dish. "Gentlemen. And Weavile. _Buon Appetito."_

"This ain't pizza." Archie greedily inhales the aroma of sweet dough and roasted vegetables. His stomach gives a booming moan.

"This is _stromboli,"_ Lysandre hums as he cuts into his portion. "Ah! So you used pizza dough as your bread!"

"Very resourceful." Maxie had wrapped his stromboli in a napkin and is blowing into it. "But it doesn't smell like pizza. It's more… Well. It's different, for sure—Archie! Archie for the love of Groudon wipe your drool! You're an intellectual, so act like one!"

Archie swipes the napkin from Maxie's side. "I can't help it, Maxie! It smells soooo good! I just want to sink my teeth into all that cheese!"

"You'll scald your tongue," Cyrus says flatly. "Consequently, you won't be able to taste again for some time. What a waste it will be."

Archie shifts in his seat. He leans over to his childhood friend and whispers, "You know… Cyrus really _really_ needs to lighten up sometimes." Maxie tells his to shut up. Cyrus, though, just turns away.

Giovanni holds up his dish to his rival. Ghetsis scowls, but nevertheless takes the plate and rips into his piping hot stromboli.

Lysandre puts the first piece into his mouth. The sun shines on his face. "Ah! What a beautiful texture! The shell isn't soggy, even with the ample cheesy filling! And look at this sealing technique! No air pockets, no holes in the dough! I taste the oregano, the olives, spinach…" He releases a shaky sigh. "What types of cheeses did you use, Giovanni?"

"Mozzarella, gorgonzola, ricotta, and robiola." Giovanni snaps his fingers. "Artisan cheeses, I may add, with exception to the mozzarella. Imported from the fresh-air mountaintops of Kalos."

Lysandre nods, obviously impressed. "The flavors meld together beautifully! A rainbow of culinary delight on my tongue!"

Archie bites into the crunchy golden shell. "Mmm! Phat phaffy whood!"

"Archie, please." Maxie leans away from his giggling friend. "You have oil on your forehead." He gnaws at the string of cheese. "Hm. Well, I'm having a hard time swallowing because of all this cheese. It's sour, bitter, and umami at the same time. It's… interesting, to say the least."

Maxie notices Cyrus staring at him. More specifically, Weavile is. The bespectacled man grins. "You want to take the other half, Cyrus? Here, I'll cut it for you."

As Cyrus feeds his hungry Weavile, Giovanni turns to his rival. "You haven't spoken a word, Ghetsis." He smirks. "Rendered speechless by my cooking?" Ghetsis scowls and hurls an empty insult that bounces off Giovanni's checkered apron.

"Whatever! It's my turn!" Ghetsis slams his piping-hot creating on the table.

And Lysandre does a double-take. "What… What in Xerneas's Geomancy is this?!"

"Pizza." Ghetsis rolls his eyes. "Duh."

Archie blinks. He squints down to the red-hot mess. "Um… Ghetsis? Is that… fruit on your pizza?"

"Your skills at observation are phenomenal, Captain Obvious," the taller man drawls. "Pineapple, to be exact."

"Why the hell would you put pineapple on your pizza?" Giovanni grunts.

"Why the heck do you put olives in yours?" Ghetsis juts a thumb against his Zoroark-printed apron. "That thing is slimy and disgusting. FYI, it's also a fruit. After all, it grows on a stupid tree."

"Interesting color for a pizza," Maxie interrupts before the rivals can rip into each other. "Oh, so you were making hot sauce, Ghetsis?"

Ghetsis clicks his tongue. "It's not hot sauce, nerd. It's Buffalo sauce, named after the city in Unova from which it originated."

"Interesting," Cyrus mutters. "But where is the cheese, Ghetsis?"

"Under all this sauce, no doubt." After some poking around, Maxie manages to locate the melted mozzarella beneath the bleeding surface. He rubs his hands and puts the pizza to his mouth. Archie watches his friend with quivering chin.

"Maxie, buddy. You're not… you're not seriously gonna eat that, right?"

"The Great Maxie does not run away from a challenge, Archie. And besides, I want to see how spicy this can be."

"Oh, it's _really_ spicy." Ghetsis waggles a slice in Giovanni's face. "Can you handle the heat, old man?"

"Are you kidding? I was born ready!" Giovanni snatches the slice and tears a good chunk lava off with his teeth.

Archie flicks his gaze between his friends. "Maxie?" he whispers.

And Maxie looks absolutely fine. His face isn't flushed in the slightest. _Why, he looks almost… excited?_ Archie gapes. Maxie grins. "You should try it, Archie! I really like how the sweet pineapple adds to the stronger flavors of the chili. And the crust is great!"

Archie reluctantly touches the tip of his tongue to the crust—and wheezes. Cyrus rushes to the back and returns with the much-needed Moomoo milk.

"Um. Hey. Archibald. Archie." Ghetsis's voice is uncharacteristically devoid of its sarcasm, and everyone notices this. "You. Uh… you don't need to—"

"I finish what I start!" Archie hiccups violently. He chugs a milk glass and slams his fists on the table. "I am Archie, man of the sea! I ain't about ta' be upstaged by that landlubber nerd!"

"You are Archie, an idiot." His friend continues to gnaw at the crust. "If you keep drinking all the milk, you'll get full without even eating the pizza."

Lysandre has been watching the chaos around him with a rather pained expression. He messages his jaw and glances around. "Hey," Ghetsis says. "Are you really about to turn tail and run just like a scaredy-Pyroar?" That does it for Lysandre, and he sinks his teeth into the lava pizza--

\--and almost chokes on his own spit. Cyrus silently slides over the Milk. "I-I am a judge!" the aristocrat gasps through heavy swings. "I can't… I can't let some spicy abomination defeat me!"

Ghetsis gnashes his jaw. "Huh? Watch it, you Pyroar-fanatic! This is my beloved creation! It is _not_ an abomination by any means!"

Giovanni eats his pizza, clearly enjoying theatrical performance before him. Then he gestures to the MC. "Cyrus. Here, I'll rip you a piece."

"A-Ah. No. No, thank you. I am fine." But Giovanni can clearly hear the suppressed curiosity behind that quiet voice.

Ghetsis storms over and tears a slice to Weavile. The cat divides its portion between itself and its Trainer. Cyrus slowly accepts Weavile's gift, and on the count of three, both Trainer and Pokemon place the pizza into their mouths.

Giovanni nonchalantly licks his chili-stained fingers. "Well, Cyrus? What do you think of this… this disgrace of a pizza?"

Cyrus is staring at nothing in particular. Even Weavile's shoulders are limp as its eyes reflect a fractured kaleidoscope. The two parents exchange a worried glance.

Maxie understands. "Here, Cyrus. I never drink directly from the bottle."

Cyrus accepts the Moomoo Milk with trembling hands. "Thank you, Maxie." His voice is barely there.

While everyone is recuperating from Ghetsis's creation, Maxie leans back with a content sigh. "All right then! The judging round is now complete!"

* * *

Giovanni and Ghetsis wait with scowls as the judges whisper amongst themselves. The former has his fists in his pockets. The latter raps an impatient waltz onto his cane.

"We've decided," Lysandre says. "But first, some parting words from our contestants."

"Stellar work from both of you." The voice is so soft that the two men almost missed it. They turn around just in time to see Cyrus duck his head. "I mean… I… ah…"

"Thanks, kid." Giovanni pats his head. "Don't worry. I'm going to make this fool eat his words."

"Laughable." Ghetsis smirks, but his eyes are warm. "You want me to win, don't you, Cyrus? I'm honored, really."

"Giovanni!" Archie yells. Cyrus breathes a sigh of relief. "Your dishes were so good! I really liked your gelato! And your minestrone! And your stromboli!"

"So basically everything," Maxie snorts. Archie shoots him a look.

" _Aaanyway,_ " the burly man continues. "Ghetsis, you made really good stuff! That egg-less ice cream was delicious! And that clam chowder warmed my stomach, just like Gio's minestrone!" He puts his hands behind his head. "And I guess fruit on pizza ain't so bad. Everything was awesome!"

The two rivals feign some sort of humility and fail badly. "So who won?" they say.

Archie laughs. "Both of you! I voted for both of you because you both tried your best!"

Ghetsis's jaw drops. "What the—No! No, that's not how it works, idiot!" He thrusts an angry hand into the air. "You're supposed to pick _one_ person! It's not that hard! Have you ever _won_ anything in your life?"

"For once, the Lettuce-head is right." Giovanni is scowling. "This is a competition, Archie. A showdown. Only one person emerges as the victor, and the other poor fool is buried 2 meters in the dirt!"

But Archie shakes his head. "Nope! My vote is final!"

"Oh for—" The rivals curse whatever Pokemon is in their native regions. Then they storm over to a shocked Cyrus. Ghetsis shoves his face into Cyrus's own. "You! MC! Tell the stupid judge to pick a winner!"

"I can't do that, sir." Ghetsis winces at the cold, sharp finality. Giovanni immediately steps back with his hands in the air. "Archie is a judge. He has full entitlement to his opinions."

"Oh for the love of Reshiram—"

"My turn." The epicurean laces his hands. _That_ catches the rivals' ears, as they believe that the aristocrat's opinion is the only one that matters at all in this competition. But then there's Maxie...

"Giovanni," Lysandre says. "You've demonstrated remarkable craftsmanship in your handling of ingredients. You incorporated the baskets beautifully. Your desert had just the right texture—not too mushy nor too rough. The bacon didn't overpower the tomato broth. And excellent idea to infuse the dough with herbs before baking your stromboli."

Giovanni shrugs. "It's nothing." There's a glint in his eyes and a firmness in his shoulders. "I'd expect as much from myself. As a fellow connoisseur, I pride myself in only the finest of culinary delights."

"Yes, yes. A man of classic taste. Very nice." Lysandre winks. Then he turns. "And now for Ghetsis."

_What the heck's with that tone?_ Ghetsis clicks his teeth and waits.

Lysandre's smile is hard. "I especially loved your desert. You chose to exclude eggs. Not what I had expected at all… nor was I expecting the ice-cream to actually hold its shape. Good job."

"That's the most underhanded compliment I've ever received," Ghetsis grumbles under his breath. "And that's saying something."

The smile is pasted on Lysandre's face. "Your clam chowder was… interesting. Although bread bowls can be messy, your presentation was… good. And the bread didn't get soggy right away… Although, unlike Giovanni's minestrone, where he incorporated the colors of the earth, your soup was more—"

_Oh no._ Ghetsis ignores Lysandre's flapping lips to glare at his rival. _I already know what that upper-class fool is going to say. And judging from Giovanni's smug grin, he knows full well too._

"And your third dish." Lysandre's smile is now a smirk. A pained one. "In all my years in the culinary world, I had absolutely no idea what that even was. I mean, crushed corn chips on your pizza? When it was already spicy? It's like you just heaped whatever was within grabbing distance and mashed it together! And pineapple, a sweet fruit, on layers of chili, cheese, and bacon? That's not refined at all! You won't get this type of… of barbarism in a restaurant!"

" _Excuse me?"_ A vein snakes up Ghetsis's neck. "The only restaurant _you_ ever know is a 6-star, private, reservation-only spot in some remote multi-million-dollar estate!" Ghetsis pats himself on the back when Lysandre's face blends in with his flaming hair. "I got news for you, bud: not everyone walks around with faux fur and fake pockets!"

"P-Pardon moi? These are not—"

"You heard me your complicit cosplayer! You let your predisposition cloud your judgement!" Ghetsis rams his cane on the rug. "I call bias! B-I-A-S!"

Giovanni rubs his temples. "For the love of Mew, calm your lettuce-ass down! You're screaming in my ear!"

"Lysandre has spoken his opinion," Cyrus snaps. The three men immediately shut up. Weavile bares its fangs. "Moving on. Maxie, you wish to speak?"

Maxie clears his throat. "Y-Yes." His fingers dance on the rims of his glasses. "Giovanni, I agree with Archie's opinion wholeheartedly. Your cooking is very delicious. I especially enjoyed your minestrone.

"And Ghetsis--" said man exhales through his teeth "—your food, I think, was very interesting. It was novel. Fun to eat. I've never seen soup in a bread bowl, nor have I seen fruit on pizza like that. I commend you for thinking outside the volcano!"

It takes Ghetsis a minute to find his voice. And when he does, he sounds strangely high-pitched. "O-Of course I'm great! I-I-I know that! Nerd!"

Maxie chuckles. "I've made my decision, Cyrus."

"Hold up, Maxie!" Giovanni growls. "You would actually defect—"

"Giovanni." The man freezes at Cyrus's glare. "Maxie has decided. Please respect his opinions. You too, Ghetsis."

Giovanni mumbles something under his breath. "Sometimes I forget that you're half my age, Cyrus…"

"I'm sorry?"

"N-Nothing. Forget it."

Ghetsis puts up his good hand. "Wait a fricking minute. We both have one vote each."

"I voted too," Archie chirps.

"Your vote doesn't count," the rivals snap. Cyrus frowns. Archie looks rather hurt. The contestants immediately amend their words, and Archie's day brightens once again.

"Fine." Giovanni crosses his arms. "If we include Archie's vote, then it's a stalemate. This isn't some silly Pokemon battle where you run away after you lose. Total war calls for an absolute winner!"

"I know one person who hasn't voted yet." Ghetsis turns around. Cyrus is already backing up until his back hits the wall. Weavile squeaks and holds its arms out like a shield.

"Cyrus," Giovanni says pleasantly. Cheerfully. "Kid, you have an opinion, don't you? Let us know. Come on, don't be shy! This is a safe and welcoming environment for everyone!"

"Yes, Cyrus," Ghetsis purrs. His grin in unnaturally bright. So bright in fact that Cyrus hides his face behind his Pokemon. "You're a good kid, aren't you? Good people vote, because that crap really matters."

Weavile slashes at the two men's faces, but they don't even flinch. Since absolute power corrupts absolutely, no one is leaving until they hear from Cyrus.

Fortunately, the judges step in. Lysandre yanks the two contestants back by the collars. "I can't believe you two!" he huffs. "You're worse than Archie and Maxie! Look at Cyrus! He's about to flee any second now!"

Then all sense and reason returns to their brains. Giovanni bites his lips to contain the flush from creeping up his face. "Oh. I'm sorry, Cyrus," he grunts. Cyrus drops his gaze. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…"

"Yes, you were an idiot." Ghetsis coughs loudly into the other direction. "Yes. A complete fool. I'd punch the unrepentant jerk who won't swallow his pride to look at Cyrus in the face and apologize to him."

Cyrus quickly shakes his head. "No need for any of that. I understand." He timidly raises his head. "Giovanni and Ghetsis. Both of you did a phenomenal job at demonstrating your culinary abilities. However, I don't think that it's fair to pick a winner based on what you could do from the limited time frame… If I did cast my ballot, it would invalidate all your previous efforts into creating fantastic dishes for us all to enjoy.

"In short… I don't think a mere competition truly determines the full scope of your skills."

Cyrus's words hang in the air well after it's uttered. Everyone glances at each other. Weavile pokes its Trainer in the cheek and grins.

Then Archie leaps across the table. Cyrus barely has time to gasp before he's pulled into a Bewear hug.

"If anyone picks on you, they'll have _me_ to deal with!" Archie roars. He rubs his hand through Cyrus's hair, ruining the younger man's gel. "You're right, Cyrus! You're absolutely right, buddy! See, that's what I was trying to tell y'all competitive scamps!"

"No, that wasn't." Maxie laces his hands behind his back. "You just suck at being a judge."

Archie scoffs. "Like you're the one to talk, nerd."

"Archie." Cyrus's voice is faint. "I need to breathe."

"Oops. Hehe, sorry about that, buddy."

Lysandre utters a hearty laugh. He puts his hands on his hips, a wide grin shining on his face. "Cyrus is right. I'm sure that there are instances in which you have more… refined tastes, Ghetsis."

Ghetsis scowls. "Now listen here you 18th century fluff—"

"I guess that's the end of the Cook-Off." Maxie turns to the camera. The other men follow suit. "It was fun, being able to taste all your unique dishes."

"But what happens now?" Archie gestures to the studio. "All this space…"

Giovanni looks down to his custom-made shoes. "We can always repurpose this for something else. It's easier to take everything down than building it up…"

A heavy silence settles into the air. Ghetsis scratches his chin and sighs. "Aw. Are you really giving up after losing to me, Giovanni?" He fakes a gasp. "Did I actually manage to rob you of all hope?"

Giovanni blinks. "What? What are you…"

Ghetsis yawns. "That was hardly a battle, Giovanni. You must be growing soft. I bet some ten-year old kid from who-knows-where can march in right now and beat your butt."

Giovanni scowls. "I am _not_ soft! I'm at the prime of my age! Why, I'm the head of Te—I'm a damn professor, damn it! I can squash you like a Geodude anytime, anywhere!"

There's something almost playful in Ghetsis's eyes. "But can you prove it?"

"YES! I _will_ beat you next time! I'll make you feel a world of pain! Why, we can go again tomorrow, right here, with the same three idiots as judges!"

"Hey now…" mutter the "idiots."

Ghetsis laughs. It's a warm, throaty laugh. "Fine then. Next time, I'll beat you so hard all you see is black and white!"

Giovanni grabs Ghetsis's handshake. "Next time, I'll win Cyrus over to my side! See it and weep, pal! I'll even win your damn Hydreigon over!"

"Oh yeah? Well, _I_ know what the young people want. It will be me who wins Cyrus over!"

As the two rivals bicker, Cyrus approaches Ghetsis's kitchen. He sets Weavile down and lets the Pokemon wander to its stomach's content. Weavile holds up some scraps. Cyrus first glances behind his shoulder before sharing a stealthy snack with his cat.

Then Cyrus turns back to his colleagues. "Everyone. Before we end our Cook-Off, would any of you like to have a word with our readers?"

"Yes," Ghetsis snaps. "The winner should've been _me!_ My dishes weren't boring like Old Man Borington over here!"

"E-Excuse me?" Giovanni huffs. "What the hell were you even making? At least my food _looked_ like it could be eaten! _I_ was the clear winner!"

"It doesn't matter who won," Lysandre hums. "What matters is that you too put aside your differences to agree on a compromise. That's the point of today's episode."

"I thought this was a cooking chapter," Archie murmurs. "Hey, who's cooking dinner today?"

Maxie stares at his friend with disbelieving eyes. "You're… you're still hungry, Archie? I mean… I _am_ thinking of making some tonkatsu with bamboo shoots and soup."

"That sounds awesome!" Archie swings an arm over his friend. "I'm getting hungry already!"

"But you just ate!" his colleagues groan. Archie laughs and shrugs. Then everyone succumbs to the joyous atmosphere, and soon the room is bright and warm with mirth.

"I'll save a video of this for later." Giovanni approaches the camera. "The first-annual Rainbow Rocket Cook-Off. It has a nice ring to it. If we made this into a yearly thing…" Then he's mumbling to himself about future plans.

Ghetsis shrugs. "That doesn't sound so bad."

Cyrus holds a satisfied Weavile into his arms. He glances at each of his roommates, and a soft sound escapes from his throat.

Then he picks up the microphone for the last time. "Thank you, everyone, for joining us on this culinary adventure. Remember to stay properly hydrated and get at least eight hours of sleep."

The six professors bow to the blinking camera. "Until next time, on Rainbow Rocket University!'

* * *

Later that night, the house is jolted awake by Archie's thunderous footsteps. It ends up being a ten-minute missing person's case. That is, until a worried Maxie happens to walk past the bathroom door.

"Psst, Maxie," the voice says on the other side of the door. "Ya got any more toilet paper?"


	11. Rainbow Rocket Racing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six grown-ass men compete in a school event.

A Starly soars over the cloudless blue skies. As its call resounds in the morning breeze, a lone, grey-splotched feather flutters down into an emerald garden. Leaves stir as the double-windows open to usher in wondrous sunlight.

"AAAAACKCHOOOO!"

"Holy Mew any louder, Ghetsis?"

The monocle-wearing man snaps his jaw at his colleague, the latter glaring at him from behind the newspaper. "Blame the stupid pollen, old man. And those stupid Pokemon are Sweet Scenting the place!"

"The beauties of spring." Lysandre inhales deeply. "The fragrance of flowers, mingled with the perfume of Roserades' blossoms. Je me chauffe aux rayons du soleil."

"Whatever." Ghetsis snickers. "Flowery language coming from a fleur."

Lysandre's mirth vanishes into a scowl. "Pardon moi? I dare you to repeat that!"

"Sure! Fleur! Fleur-de-lis! Fleur-Fleur!"

"You--! You--! You ugly _chou!_ If I wanted a better salad, I can go to my private chef!"

_"I_ can give myself a better hairdo without your ten thousand mirrors!"

Giovanni notices the shoe-cleaning advertisement in the paper and circles that. As the two grown men engage in verbal war, he turns to the younger man beside him. "Cyrus," Giovanni says. "What are you doing?"

Cyrus looks up through the rims of his reading glasses. "There has been a new discovery in the field of antimatter research, Giovanni." He presents the very dense and exhaustive article. "I'm helping a laboratory on campus peer-review their findings."

Giovanni gives a small smile. "Oh. Antimatter?"

"Yes." Cyrus taps his feather pen against the paper. "Electrons are generally negatively-charged, correct? Now, imagine if those negatively-charged particles had acquired a positive charge. Those positrons are antiparticles due to their…"

"You're a pasty aristocrat who wouldn't last a day without using 4-ply toilet paper!" Ghetsis also can't last a day without his usual insults.

"You're a sordid head of fiber! At least _my_ hair makes sense!"

Then the door flings open, shaking the household upon impact to the wall. Giovanni's wallet dies a little. Just… a little. Archie bounces into the room, his best friend stumbling in behind him. "Good morning, scamps!" 

"The dynamic duo," Ghetsis huffs. "Great. I wonder what stupid thing—"

Archie slaps something onto the mahogany table. The professors lean over to see the commotion. "Archie and I were prepping for our volcanic demonstration on Monday when he saw this!" Maxie says. "I thought it'll be interesting—"

"Why?" Everyone looks/glares at Ghetsis. "Why the heck were you two on campus on a fricking weekend?!"

"Ghetsis has a point, for once," Giovanni grumbles, shooting a stink-eye to his rival. "It's the weekend. You don’t get paid enough to come on non-working days."

Maxie crosses his arms. "It's quieter on the weekend. And besides, sometimes Cyrus and I visit the library to get our grading done while you four… do your thing." Cyrus is wholly absorbed in his peer-review process to look up. But Giovanni notices that the feather pen had been in the same spot since Archie barged in.

Lysandre lifts the poster. "'Rainbow Rocket Racing?'" he reads. "'1st Annual Competition Featuring the RRU Mechanic's Club's Carts. Students as well as faculty are encouraged to participate!'"

Ghetsis rolls his eyes. "Sounds like something my stupid son would like. We're all grown men—"

"'A cash reward will be offered to the winner, as well as a spotlight in the critical acclaimed student newspaper, the _Daily Rainbow.'"_ Lysandre sets the poster down.

"How much?" Giovanni nonchalantly says.

Lysandre scans the paper again. "Doesn't say, I'm afraid."

Archie shrugs. "Does it matter? This is great, now that RRU's finally having one of those fancy go-cart races!"

"It'll be interesting to see the course," Maxie adds. "I've heard that they've done wonders with the topography, shaping the land to ensure realism while keeping its natural features intact."

Giovanni frowns. "If this is anything like that insanity at Treasure Town Theme Park, then count me out!"

Archie and Maxie glance at each other. "There won't be any drops," Archie says with a disarming smile. "Maybe. Probably."

"H-How dare you assume that I'm afraid of—"

Ghetsis fakes a loud, obnoxious sigh. "Come on, old man." And he's smirking, that egotistical bastard. "Do I have to remind you? We still have the pictures—"

"Registration opens today," Maxie interjects before verbal civil war can ruin this beautiful spring day. "We have to hurry so we won't get the bad carts."

The parents scowl. "And what makes you think that we're going?!"

Archie spreads his hands. "Come on, Giovanni and Ghetsis! It's a beautiful day outside! The sun is shining; the birds are singing! On days like these, professors like us—"

"—should be staying away from campus because it's a stinking weekend," Ghetsis finishes with a huff. Giovanni nods assent. "I have better things to do than indulge in a pointless charade of cheap amusement!"

Archie deflates. Maxie frowns. The parents cross their arms and turn back to whatever productive recreation that they were doing. Lysandre clears his throat. "Erm… Monsieur Maxie. Archie. I would be more than happy to cheer you on from the sidelines."

"But it's funner if we're driving," Archie mumbles.

"Y-Yes, but…" That experience at the Park still traumatized the other professors. Archie was not to be trusted to showcase "safe" attractions.

"Excuse me, Maxie. May I see that?" Archie's face bursts into sunshine when Maxie shoves the poster into Cyrus's face. The youngest man's eyes glide across the text, an intrigued look on his usually impassive face. "I see. This looks pro—"

"CYRUS!" Cyrus fails to deter a rushing Archie. Soon the burly man has his colleague in a wicked noogie. "Cyrus, buddy! I knew I could count on you!"

"Archie, you stinky fish-brain, get off him!" Maxie pulls his big, beefy friend away. "Cyrus! You good?"

Cyrus blinks. Then he shakes his head. "Y-Yes. I'm fine." He fumbles to readjust his collar. "Oh. Archie, you have gel on your hands."

Archie laughs. "It's fine, buddy!" He covertly rubs the liquid behind the sofa, and Giovanni makes a mental note to make that idiot experience a world of pain later.

Cyrus raises his head. "I've never heard of a Mechanics Club in RRU. Do you happen to know if the carts are built by hand?"

"Should be," Maxie replies with a twitching smile. "It's the first big thing as a club. Everything's taken care of—they just need participants."

Cyrus stares at the poster again. There's a newfound light in his eyes. Maxie and Archie hold their breaths… and Cyrus finally nods, much to their extreme elation. "We got three!" Archie fist bumps his two nerd friends. The former has to gently instruct Cyrus on the proper procedure of the art.

Lysandre rubs his beard. Then he sighs. "Fine. I'll cast my two Poke in… oh, I'll have to check if we're covered by insurance…"

The parents look at each other. "He might fly out of the cart," Giovanni mutters so only his rival can hear. "Look at him, he's so small."

"Mmmm. And I doubt the validities of their science degrees. Fancy-pants isn't very reliable either…"

They nod. Archie gasps when the parents reluctantly join the little circle. They throw in some half-ass excuse of blah blah, but Archie's just excited that everyone's on board.

"All right then!" Maxie smiles at each of his colleagues. "There's six of us. Let's go down to registration before they run out of slots."

* * *

"Yo, Crys. Why are they here?"

"Shhh! I-I think they're just looking around, Gold… Holy Lugia what if someone told them that we didn't have an advisor?!"

"N-Nah. But still, they look like a real scary bunch. Wait. Shoot, Crys! Isn't that guy the super mean one? The Ice King—eep, he's looking at us, Crys! He's gonna eat our brains!"

Cyrus clears his throat. "Excuse me. Do you hand-craft everything here?"

The students gape at each other. "Y-Y-Yes, sir!" Crystal squeaks. "E-Everything here is produced on-site! O-Our wood is sustainably harvested to reduce our environmental impact on the planet!"

Cyrus casts another intent glance around the hangar. Then he tilts his head. "I see. Do you mind if I looked around?"

Crystal and Gold nudge each other until Gold shoves his friend forward. "N-No! Of course not, s-sir!" he yelps. "Please!"

Crystal shoots daggers at her friend as she disappears to the back with Cyrus. Maxie approaches the stunned student that still remained. "Hello," he says. "I'm Professor Maxie and these are my colleagues." The professors wave weakly, except for Archie, who's pumping his fists into the air. Gold feels his heart die a little. "We'd like to register for your event, please."

_Holy Ho-Oh THAT's Professor Maxie?! And there's Professor Archie!! And Lysandre! Shoot, even Ghetsis is—HOLY HO-OH THAT'S GIOVANNI CRYS DON'T LEAVE ME ALONEEEEEEEEEE---_

"O-Of course, Professor Maxie! Right this way!" Gold's smile is stiff and pathetic as he leads the five towering bosses to the small table with papers. The young man's hands shake as he presents the necessary documents.

"Ah, the waiver," Lysandre says. "There's no insurance coverage?"

Gold blinks. "U-Um. We'll be utilizing virtual reality. S-S-So the perceived risks will be almost non-existent!"

Ghetsis and Giovanni utter a sigh of relief. "Wait," the former hisses. "That's what they said when we went on that death trap."

"At least they _showed_ us the waivers before we signed up," Giovanni mumbles back.

Gold watches the powerful bosses whisper amongst themselves with wide, unblinking eyes. Then he remembers why they're here, and the student hurries to take back the clipboard. "D-Do you have preferred seating positions?" he squeaks.

Lysandre blinks. "Pardon?"

Gold takes a deep breath. "Since there's six of you, you have the option of three carts with seats of two, or two carts with seats of three. It's a battle royale, so it's every team for themselves."

Ghetsis raises a heavy eyebrow at the appeal of absolute carnage. "Two carts sound good, right? Three sounds like a bit too much."

"I'm going with Maxie!" Archie swings an arm over his friend. "Me and you are going to sink the landmass, Maxie!"

Giovanni coughs politely. "I don’t mean to sink your landmass, Archie, but I think you two should be on opposing teams."

Maxie frowns. Ghetsis drags a hand through his hair. "You two are awfully chummy… people might get the wrong idea."

"What do you mean?" Archie says.

Lysandre smiles. It's not a pleasant smile. "Wouldn't it be better if you faced off against the other? What better way to prove who's better?"

The friends exchange glances. As the group lapses into thoughtful silence, Gold edges to the back to search for his missing friend. "Crys!" he hisses when his friend reappears. "Where'd you go?"

"I—What's wrong with you, Gold?"

"Crys, tell May that she was right about Hardenshipping!" Then he lowers his voice. "Are you okay? The Ice King didn't eat your brains?"

Crystal gives him a weird look. _Holy Ho-Oh she's smiling! What did he do to her?!_ "I'm okay! I've just been showing Professor Cyrus around the place!" As if on cue, the man materializes from the shadows. Gold almost blacks out.

"Your club is very impressive, mister Gold," Cyrus says with just the slightest lift of his lips. "Miss Crystal told me that it's just you two? Stellar work, considering what you've managed to accomplish as a duo."

Crystal is aglow. "Prof here didn't ease up on the compliments on your double-axle-snow-plow-tractor, Gold. He thinks that you should showcase it in the upcoming Maker Festival."

Gold scoops his jaw off the floor. He turns to Cyrus, who gives him a little nod. Crystal then notices the rest of the men. "Oh, Professors! Have you finished registering?"

"Yes." Giovanni glances at his colleagues. "We're in the process of choosing teams."

"Oh. Well, we have straws here. And paper. Help yourselves."

As Gold recovers from his shock, Lysandre is writing names and shuffling them into a box. The selection process is decided, but not everyone is happy. "I'm in a group with rock nerd and fancy-pants?" Ghetsis palms his face. "We'll be stinking last!"

"Pardon moi, but I _do_ happen to own both foreign and domestic vehicles." Lysandre shoves a fist to his hips. "I know my steering wheels both left and right!"

Maxie pinches his nose bridge. "I have a feeling that this won't be pretty at all…"

"It won't since you have Lettuce-Head on your team." Giovanni cackles. Ghetsis shoots back a scathing retort, only to be met with another verbal attack.

"Welcome aboard, Cyrus!" Archie punches the man's shoulder, earning him a deep frown that is easily cast aside. "Me and you are going to flood that rock nerd!"

Maxie huffs. "Heh! Do not underestimate the Great Maxie, you fish-fanatic of a seaweed brain!"

Lysandre clears his throat. "Speaking of which, we need team names. I shudder to think of us as Team One and Team Two."

The professors mutter assent. Then Archie strikes his palm. "Hey, how about we take the first letter of our workplaces? Let's see… me, Gio, and Cyrus… We can be RAG!"

"RAG?" Giovanni echoes.

"Suits you," Ghetsis huffs. "You're just a dirty old rag that's about to get DECKED!"

"H-Have you seen your team lately, Lettice-Head? You, Maxie, and Lysandre! Team FMG! How the hell do you even pronounce that? Heh, imagine if you had Archie instead!"

"Holy Ho-Oh, are these guys for real?" Gold murmurs to his dumbstruck friend. Crystal simply shakes her head.

"Team Rainbow and Team Rocket."

All activity stops to stare at the man who'd just spoken. Cyrus realizes his mistake too late. Fortunately, Archie catches his arm before he can dash out the nearest exit.

"That's a great idea, Cyrus!" Maxie beams. "All of us: a rainbow! We're faster than a speeding rocket!"

"N-No, Maxie." Only a Whismur can hear Cyrus's voice. "I-I was just talking to myself. Please disregard that."

"I like it!" Archie roars. "Gold, Crystal! Sign us up for Team Rainbow and Team Rocket!"

"That sounds fun." Lysandre smiles. "It'll set us apart from the other competitors."

Giovanni pats his colleague's head. "Sounds like a good proposition, Cyrus. Everyone in favor?"

Everyone looks at Ghetsis. The tallest professor coughs loudly into his fist. "W-Whatever. Knock yourself out, kid."

 _"Kid?"_ Then it's the students' turn to realize their mistake.

But to their immense relief, Ghetsis just clicks his tongue. "You two remind me of two other troublemakers in my class… Bah, I shouldn't be thinking of this on the weekend." He raps his cane on the floor. "Let's do this already."

Cyrus had recovered enough to recompose himself as a professor of RRU. He clears his throat, and he loosens his tie before speaking. "The students were considerate enough to provide us with sturdy three-seat carts. They've included the necessary terrain equipment: a parachute, if worse comes to worse."

Crystal nods slowly. "Professor Cyrus helped modify some parts… Holy Lugia I thought you secured those parachutes, Gold!"

"I did!" he sputters. "I did exactly as you said, Crys! I even replaced all the hub caps!"

Giovanni licks his lips. "Um… are you sure that this is safe—"

"YES!" they snap, and the professors automatically step back.

"It's safe, Giovanni," Cyrus states with reassuring finality. "We've made the necessary adjustments, Crystal and I. I give you my word."

A great weight lifts from the air. Even the walls sigh. Lysandre rubs his beard. "All right then, Monsieur Cyrus. May we see the carts?"

"Of course. Follow me."

As the professors shuffle to the back, Crystal nudges Gold. "I think we found our new faculty advisor," she whispers with a wink.

* * *

The weather is crisp and cool. A pleasant breeze blows across school grounds, scattering dust and leaves in colorful swirls.

"I'm here on a weekend," grumbles Ghetsis as he approaches the three-person go-cart. "I don’t get paid enough for this nonsense…"

Lysandre is fumbling around the controls. "Is there a way to shift the seat back? What does this—" _BOOF!_ "—ah. Found it."

Maxie is cleaning his glasses. He frowns when that three-pronged shadow covers the sun. "Why are you wearing a helmet?" Ghetsis huffs. "This isn't peewee soccer."

Maxie thrusts a hand to the rumbling engine. "Look at it, Ghetsis! No roof! If we are so much as to hit a pebble, then we'll fly out and hit our heads! You know what happens when heads hit concrete, I assume?"

Lysandre snickers. Ghetsis gnashes his teeth. "That turtleneck must be cutting off air to that lofty brain, Maxwell. Look at the other fools. No one's wearing a helmet!" Maxie jerks his chin to the side. Ghetsis follows his gaze, and the latter palms his face.

"Cyrus, why are you wearing a helmet?" Archie is saying. "No one—oh. Well, there's always Maxie."

"I'm just being safe," is the heated grumble. "And Cyrus knows. Right, Cyrus?"

Cyrus nods. "A concussion is the least of your concerns, Archie, were you to fracture your skull and break your neck." He presents the safety gear to his team. "I can help you put yours on, if you want."

Some jocks bump Cyrus aside. "Nerds!" they sneer as they sprint down to their own cart.

"I'll fail you if you're in my class!" Ghetsis roars, throwing his cane in the air. "Only I can call him that! Insolent brats!"

"That was uncalled for," Lysandre hisses. "That was completely disrespectful."

"It's fine," Cyrus says, but his eyes are burning cold fire. Then he lowers his gaze. "Giovanni. Your helmet."

Giovanni blinks. "Um. No. I'll be fine, kid." He raps his head for emphasis. "It's going to take a lot more to break this old noggin."

Archie is fuming in the driver's seat. "We're going to mow those jerks over. Then I'm going to call their parents and—"

"We didn't come here to interfere in student misconduct." Cyrus's tone is final. "We came here to participate in the first annual cart race. And that's exactly what I plan to do."

"Cyrus…" his colleagues mutter.

Crystal carefully approaches the group. "Um… everything good?" she squeaks.

"Peachy," Giovanni mumbles. She isn’t convinced, but Crystal nods regardless.

"Great. We're set to start in two minutes. Then we'll activate the virtual reality systems." She rakes her concerned gazes over the six men. "Um… yeah. Safety first and all that. Gold and I will be right here if you have any questions."

And she's scampering away before anyone can ask anything. The professors dismiss that and assumes their seating positions. "Everyone's staring at us," Maxie whispers as he wedges in between Ghetsis and Lysandre.

Archie revs the engine. "They've never seen six bosses before!"

Cyrus glances around. "You won't wear helmets. But you all wear seatbelts."

Giovanni shrugs from the back. "But of course. There's no wall behind my seat."

"Yes, but…"

"You can hold onto me, Cyrus." Archie glances behind his shoulder. "I can pilot this speedboat, but Gio's got you covered in the back."

"Oh. Thank you for the offer, Archie, but I'm fine."

Maxie frowns. "Oh no, Archie's driving? Good luck, Lysandre. Idiot only knows how to pilot a ship."

"Great," Lysandre huffs. "Just great."

The carts roll up to the starting line. Participants—students, mostly—notice the crackling air around the six menacing professors. It's the aura before the final door leading to a boss battle.

Gold and Crystal raise their flags. "There will be three circuits! Items are regenerative, so don't worry about taking too much! Claim victory and seize your prize!"

"Regenerative items?" the professors echo. Crystal flashes them some sort of wicked smirk. Gold shoots them a thumbs-up.

"On your mars!" Gold cries.

"Get set!" Crystal booms. The professors hold their breaths. Archie and Lysandre exchange a glance.

"GO!"

And the world changes right before their eye.

* * *

Some time passes before the professors recovered from their initial shock. By that time, everyone had gone far, far ahead.

"DRIVE!" Ghetsis bellows. Lysandre jams his foot on the pedal, and the cart shoots down the unpaved streets.

Giovanni hacks the dust from his throat. "GO!" he snarls to an unresponsive Archie. "GO! THAT LETTUCE-HEAD GOT THE LEAD!"

The two carts rock down the hills. Swarms of Woobat burst from the trees, bright green leaves swirling in the overcast skies.

"Where are we?" Ghetsis is screeching. "What trickery is this? Did they kidnap us? When did the world change? Why are we here in Unova? In Nuvema Town? WHY DOES EVERYTHING LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME?!"

"They _did_ say it was virtual reality." Maxie rubs his poor ears. "Technology truly is terrifying."

"We're approaching a town." Lysandre points. "Hnngh. I've always hated tall grass. Wait, are we running _into_ the town? What in the name of Xerneas—"

"Accumula Town." Archie pulls up alongside Lysandre. "Nice name. Sounds boring, just like Maxie."

"Hey!"

Ghetsis takes in his surroundings with a frown. _Heck, they've gotten all the details right! The condominiums, the—_

"Isn't this where you first performed, Ghetsis?"

Ghetsis whips his head to the right. Cyrus is gripping at his helmet with trembling hands. "Y-Yeah," the former says. "B-But how…"

"You told us." Cyrus gestures to the splotch of grass in the center of town—and almost falls out. "You also told us that your first composition was titled _Liberation."_

"Don't tell me you forgot." Giovanni smirks.

Ghetsis hisses. "O-Of course not! Idiots! It just happened to slip my mind is all! HEY! Look at how we're stinking LAST!"

_They remembered._

Lysandre glances at the small monitor in the driver's panel. The number's alternating between 12th and 13th place. "There's 13 teams," he mutters.

"Thank you, Capitaine Obvious!" Maxie cringes from Ghetsis's booming voice. "I'm not about to lose to mafia-face over here! Skip the Kalosian pleasantries and STEP ON IT!"

"I ain't about to lose to you either!" Archie grips the wheel at the same time that Cyrus protects his head. "You're about to witness reel power!" That earns a groan from the other professors, especially Maxie. Archie waves and floors his cart down the road. Ghetsis politely tells the dandy to hurry the heck up.

There's a glowing box in the middle of the road, conveniently blocking the entrance to Nacrene City. Lysandre yelps, but he fails to avoid the obstacle in time. Ghetsis braces for impact. BING! Some sound registers in his ears. It's not the sound of collision, however. Very, very slowly he opens his eyes to see a Banana Peel in his hand.

"What the…"

Maxie looks back. There's a mouthless mushroom in his grip: the weird kind with the polka-dot cap. "I don't know how this got here." The nerd's eyes are wide. "Maybe it's that box's doing."

"What's happening back there?" Lysandre says. "No one's hurt, right?"

Ghetsis glares at the Peel. Not far from them, Archie also fails to swerve, slamming into that box—and escaping unscathed. As soon as they touched the box, items appeared in Cyrus's and Giovanni's hands.

"We can use this to our advantage." Ghetsis lobs the Banana Peel in front of the Museum entrance. Just like old times.

"Ghetsis, don't litter--!"

"Use that Mushroom, nerd!"

Maxie scowls, but he uses it regardless. The world flashes before Ghetsis's eyes. He's vaguely aware of Lysandre's colorful French, of Maxie's gasps, of Archie's yelps as Ghetsis' team zooms past 12th place.

Greenery passes his vision, and soon the skies open to cloudless blue and shining sun. High beams, pillars towering to the heavens; and in the distance, the skyline of Castelia City. Lysandre is still driving, surprisingly. He's just really, really quiet. Like the rest of his team. Ghetsis lifts his cane, and Lysandre drives to the Box in question.

"A Star?" Maxie mumbles. A strange energy pulsates from the celestial item. With a nod from his team, Maxie sets the Star into motion. **BOOM!** The engine kicks into overdrive. Lysandre's hair almost rips from his scalp with the sudden rush of speed. Maxie's close to fainting. But Ghetsis…

"YEEHAW!" he cackles as the cart shoves the 11th place aside. There's no collision—just a forceful expulsion of the enemy. He watches the team spiraling out of sight with a glinting grin. "Eat my dust, sucka!!"

"Why are we glowing?!" Lysandre is screaming. "Why is my skin a rainbow? Where is this ugly music coming from?! THIS IS NOT BEAUTIFUL AT ALL!"

No, it is. Lysandre's expression brightens as they push past other teams in this rainbow-bout of crazy speed. 11th. 10th. 9th… Ghetsis lobs a Red Shell, granting them access into 8th place. "This is amazing!" he roars as they tear through the light-speckled Castelia City. "Eat my dust, Burgh! You and your Bugs can eat by honey-caked dust!"

Lysandre turns, just briefly, but Ghetsis catches a hint of a smile on those moist lips. It could've been a playful one.

"You two are crazy," Maxie mumbles into his hands. "This is insanity at its finest. We are _littering, destroying_ our precious environment, and you two just _laugh?!"_

"It's virtual reality, nerd." Ghetsis hurls a Fake Item Box, watching in glee when the victim flips over. "The most important thing here is winning, and that's exactly what we're doing."

"Monsieur Ghetsis has a point." Lysandre swerves to avoid an oncoming car. "We came here to celebrate victory. It will be a beautiful occasion!"

Maxie buries his face into his hands. "Oh… Archie… where are you when I need you…?"

A dry wind scratches Ghetsis's skin. He squints as the course approaches the Desert Resort. Mounds of sand litter here and there, spotless construction equipment simmering in the ambiguous sun…

"We're almost to Nimbasa," Ghetsis mutters. "And we're in 6th place. This is good—"

_**SKREEEEE!**_ The car screeches to a halt. Maxie flies forward, and Ghetsis grabs that nerd before he's taken into the monster storm. "LYSANDRE! WHAT THE HECK?!"

"Look at it!" The man gestures aggressively to the ocean of sand. Ghetsis's jaw drops. "There is no road! I will get my coat dirty!"

"THIS IS NO TIME FOR PETTY VANITY!" Sand assaults his mouth like bullets. Ghetsis chokes in the most elegant of manners. "T-That—ACK!—Just d-drive—ACK!"

"You can borrow my glasses, Lysandre," Maxie says. "There's a special button that repels debris—"

"NON!" His teammates jump. "Nononon! I would rather be crushed under rubble than to have that… that _thing_ on my head!"

"My glasses are not a thing! I've had these since forever, and this pair is a special gift from Tabitha!"

"You, mon amie, are committing a terrible crime! You are the bane of fashion! Who pairs shorts with a turtleneck?!"

"My fashion sense is _not_ terrible! Who dresses like it's 19th century Kalos!?"

"Hey, it's Ghetsis!" A cart stops by just to spite him. "Woah, you're in the race, old man? N's gonna be proud that you're in 12th place!"

"Come back here you little brats!" Ghetsis slashes his cane into empty air. But the students just laugh and plunge into the sandy mire, leaving the men indeed in 12th place. "Black, you think you're so smart, huh? You and White are just _asking_ to repeat my class!"

Maxie glares at Lysandre. "Just take the glasses!"

"NON!"

"Take the stupid glasses and drive through the stupid sand because we're in stupid fricking 12th place!" Ghetsis stops to catch a huge, sand-leaden breath.

Lysandre's glaring daggers into Maxie's outstretched hands. Then he sighs. He sighs as he handles the glasses like he's handling trash. Sighs as he slides them on his head. No one speaks as he pushes the cart into drive. Everyone's silent when sand sprays on their clothes—sand much too real to be fake.

Maxie nudges Ghetsis. "Erm… Lysandre?" A grunt. Maxie purses his lips. Ghetsis frowns. "Are you… are you crying?"

A shake of the head. The sandstorm's loud enough to drown out sound, but from the way Lysandre's broad shoulders are quivering…

"No one will know," the aristocrat grumbles under shaky breath. "I will destroy the filth who dares to see me in this state...!"

* * *

_"I will destroy the filth who dares to see me in this state!"_

Those words ring in the air for much longer than necessary. Rings through the broadcasting room, through the walls, settling into Gold's ears like raining debris.

"Maybe we made a mistake by putting this on live," he mutters to his gaping friend. Crystal blinks. And blinks again.

"Let's hope they'll never find out." Crystal cautiously peers outside the room—to the viewing lobby where a handful of viewers are gawking at the high-definition plasma TV—at the very real tears dripping down that handsome, rugged face.

* * *

"Yo, why is Lion-man crying?"

The cart almost stops again. Ghetsis coughs loudly when the last-place pulls up to them.

"I-I am not crying." Lysandre steps on it. Archie's quick to reciprocate that action, and soon Team Rainbow and Team Rocket are tied to last place again.

"I'll tell you later," Maxie mouths. Archie frowns, but he nods and lets that be.

The carts round about the roller-coaster tracks of Nimbasa City. Ghetsis hurls a Bob-omb down Elesa's Gym. "So you're still in last place?" he grunts. "Cyrus?"

"Yes." Ghetsis is aware of how stiff the younger professor is. How uncannily pale he is. The tension in his shoulders. And there's Giovanni, gripping his colleague as if his life depended on it.

Somehow it's funny, but at the same time, it's not.

"Are you all right, Giovanni?" Maxie mumbles.

"Peachy," is the muffled response.

"Gio doesn't like bridges," Archie says. Giovanni makes a heavy sound in his throat. Cyrus freezes until he can pass for a statue.

 _Why am I not laughing?_ Ghetsis frowns to himself. _I knew I should've brought those motion-sickness pills…_

"We're passing another bridge," Ghetsis says. Giovanni moans, his inhuman hold tightening around Cyrus until the latter is white as a sheet. "B-But it's not that big," he adds. "The air at Driftveil has special medicinal properties."

Archie shoots a glance back at his colleagues. "Let's hope so…"

Giovanni keeps his eyes shut as they pass Driftveil Bridge. Archie accidently drives over a colored panel, and the cart zooms forward just like Giovanni's stomach. "Holy Kyogre I'm so sorry, Gio!" Ghetsis glances at the place-marker: 12th place. Tells Lysandre that there's really no rush if they're dead last in the first place.

Giovanni straightens once they've entered Driftveil City. The air of dirt and bitter medicine seems to have reenergized his spirit. He releases Cyrus, who slumps against Archie's back like a spineless doll. "I-It's fine," Cyrus mutters when Giovanni attempts to apologize. "I-I'm all right. Y-You should focus on getting better."

Springtime had faded to invite the aroma of Summer as the professors charge through Chargestone Cave. Then they're racing down the runway of Mistralton City, trampling over vegetables and trees.

"You can go ahead," Archie says. "You're in 12th place, Ghetsis."

A collective glance between Ghetsis and his team. "We still have a good chunk to go," he says with a shrug. "We get better items down here anyhow." To demonstrate that claim, Lysandre drives into a Box. Ghetsis hurls his three Green Shells into the distance, and Maxie throws his three Red Shells.

"Losers!" Ghetsis roars to his bewildered students. "I'll see you next quarter, Black and White!"

"Hey, May and Brendan are also competing!"

"And so are Calem and Serena. Why, we've passed a good majority of my students." Lysandre looks up. "Ah. We're approaching a Tower, everyone." He shivers in the chilly mountain air, despite it being summer.

"Damn it." Giovanni has his hand over his face. Cyrus flashes him a look. "This is pathetic… No one should ever see me like this…"

"And no one will," Ghetsis huffs.

Maxie holds onto his Golden Mushroom as the cart climbs the spiraling Tower. Various Ghost Pokemon gawk at them, but Ghetsis slashes his cane to secure the path to victory.

"I have yet to bring you Poffins, Giovanni," Cyrus is saying in that comforting monotone of his. "What is your preferences for bread hardness? Oh, you prefer toast? Do you prefer crusts? Sesame? How much sugar can you tolerate? Do you have dietary restrictions?"

His voice is surprisingly soothing. Lysandre physically relaxes—Ghetsis can feel that as the cart regains steady ground. Then they're out of Celestial Tower… and are heading up the mountain to Icirrus City.

"It's Autumn now." Leaves turn red in the harsh sun. Maxie squints through his hand. "Amazing how they manipulated the seasons. I—AHH!" The cart had dipped into an icy road. Lysandre had missed the main route. Now he's desperately trying to keep the wheels from hydroplaning across the ice.

Ghetsis checks his speed. 7th. 6th. 5th. "Holy Kyurem we're in 4th place!!"

"T-T-That's great!" Maxie's holding on for dear life. That's when he accidently sits on the Golden Mushroom.

Ghetsis has no idea what happened next. He must've blacked out at some point. The chilly Winter frost slaps his face, and he opens his eyes to see that they're now on a gridded bridge with seas to their left and right.

And he checks the speedometer.

"We're in 1st place," Maxie gasps. He looks to his two baffled teammates. "Holy Groudon… we're actually… we're actually…"

"We're actually _good!_ " Lysandre clears his throat. "I-I meant, yes. Yes, of course we did it! As expected from Rainbow Rocket University's finest!"

Ghetsis snickers as he hurls Banana Peels in his wake, as he dumps loads of Fake Boxes and Green Shells behind them. Relishes as carts flip, mouths cry, and the distance between 1st and the rest grows until they're glaring at each other from the edges of the chasm.

"Next stop," he roars. "Opelucid City! Drayden, you sly dog, Plasma Symphony's going to put you into early retirement!"

Wheels crunch on ice as the cart weaves through the historic city. Ghetsis keeps his eye out for place-stealers and quickly remedies that with Banana Peels and Green Shells. Why, he's gotten so good that his Green Shells bounce off the walls at precise angles to strike his enemies.

Then Ghetsis tenses. "Lysandre?"

"Yes, Monsieur, Ghetsis?"

"What's that sound?"

Maxie glances around the foggy landscape. It's impossible to see, but that sound slices through the miasma like sun in an underground cave. "There's a hissing noise…" He rubs at the sudden gooseflesh on his arms.

"The engine is fine?" Worry laces Lysandre's normally fluid tone. As the cart rolls through the Giant Chasm, the feeling of unease grows more and more prevalent.

 _HISSSSSSSSS._ It's coming closer. Ghetsis barely has time to turn before something blue explodes in his face. Then he's seeing the ground. Clouds nibbling on his cheeks. The fog is a white stain on the earth that he's slowly falling, falling, falling…

 ** _BAM!_ **When the rolling stops, the cart is back on its wheels. When his eyeballs stop vibrating, when his ears stop ringing, Ghetsis glances at the speedometer.

7th.

The jocks from earlier shove them aside. "NERDS!"

8th.

Black and White zoom past them. "Sorry, Professors!"

 ** _BOOM!_ **Lightning splices from the ambiguous skies. Pebbles become boulders, grass now looms to chasms.

9th. 10th. 11th. 12th.

Then the world returns to normal. The fog lifts to reveal the notoriously rugged terrain of Victory Road.

 _Boof. Poof. Poof._ A cart pulls up to them. Ghetsis doesn't have to look to know who they are. "We saw lightning come down out of nowhere," his rival says. Judging from his tone, he wasn't affected from the Item. "And everyone was tiny… much like a Weedle."

Archie rakes his eyes over the opposing faction. "Woah. Are you three all right? You look like you just got hit with Giga Impact."

Cyrus rummages through the cart and produces three helmets. The opposing team silently accepts his gift.

"Lysandre." Ghetsis's voice is but a low, low grumble as if emitting from the depths of the Giant Chasm itself. "Maxie."

"Ghetsis."

Ghetsis looks at the cart that had stopped beside them. 13th place. "Archie. Cyrus. Giovanni."

"Y-Yes?"

Ghetsis launches a finger in the air. The winter air quivers under his crackling aura. "We're going to kill them."

"For once, we're speaking the same language." Lysandre's mane is ablaze as he floors forward like a rushing Mega Gyarados. "We will end them!"

"No one upstages the Great Maxie! NO ONE!" Maxie's unleashing carnage with his barrage of Red Shells and Lightning.

Ghetsis waves to the gaping 13th place. "Come on! Hurry up!"

The two carts clatter down the gilded floors of the Unova Pokemon League. They barrel up the stairs, up the winding—

"Giovanni, focus on my voice."

\--staircase leading up to the Champion's chamber.

"Screw 12th place!" Ghetsis launches a volley of Lightning. "PLASMAAA!" Carts shrink, but the distance is still too large to mend. Maxie's dishing out Fireballs—FIREBALLS—while the other team watches in stunned silence.

"Where's the Starman when you need it?" Lysandre growls.

Maxie gestures to the edges of the golden staircase. "Look! Speed boosts! If we run the, we can at least come in 8th place!"

"Looks fun!" Archie shoots a glance over his shoulder. Giovanni's face is in his hands, his head pressed against Cyrus's back. Cyrus's face is grim, but he manages to give Archie a terse nod.

"Let's do this, professors!" Maxie hisses. "Let's show them what Team Rainbow Rocket can do!"

The carts diverge to the edges of the staircase to heaven. **_VROOM! VROOOM!_ **Rival teams gawk at the speeding bullets. Speed boosts are a fickle thing, especially if placed on the sides of a platform where no railings divide the path and the endless expanse of darkness if one was to slip—

"AAAACCCHOOOO!"

Lysandre gasps. Arche jolts. Ghesis sees his entire life flash through his eyes as the staircase falls further and further away from his blackening world.

* * *

Gold and Crystal look at each other. They replay the conversation, every possible response, reassuring themselves that RRU's the safest campus in the entire world.

"W-Water, Professors?"

Archie swipes eight bottles, chugging it down within a second's blink. Giovanni ingests his drink like vodka while Lysandre treats his like finely-aged bourbon. Crystal had to open Cyrus's bottle because his hands are trembling too much to even function.

"This is bad," Gold whispers to his friend.

"They won't know," Crystal assures very unconfidently. "As long as we keep it this way, they’ll never know."

"But what about _him,_ Crys?"

 _Him._ The students stare at the green-haired man that's slumped against the wall. The cloud of misery rains down his head.

"Curses, curses!" Fists pound against brick. "Stupid hay fever! Stupid sneeze! We could've won! Of course I'd mess it up! I always mess things up!"

"Dad."

"Nothing ever goes according to plan! It's all my fault! Curse this arm! Curse those fools! If it wasn't for that accident—"

"Dad!" Something warm and soft presses against his back. Ghetsis stiffens. A lock of light green hair slides into his vision. A pair of eyes—soft and blue, peeks into his world.

"Hey, Dad." N smiles. "I think you did great."

Ghetsis gasps. He rubs his eyes until they almost bled. "Y-Y-Y-You w-w-w-why—"

"My friends, White and Black, invited me to watch." N gestures to the grinning students in the back. "I never thought you would be participating, Dad! I'm so happy for you!"

"Ack! Not in public, not in public!" N laughs, but he respects that decision. Ghetsis quickly recomposes himself, rises, and fixes his son with his usual irritation.

"Your friends are so cool, Dad," the young man says. "But everyone looks dead. After you fell—"

"HEY, who's thirsty?" Crystal shoves into the conversation with bottles of water. "Professor GHETSIS! YOUR WATER!"

"I'm not deaf!" Nevertheless, Ghetsis takes a heavy swing. The bottle's empty before he knows it. N laughs again and follows his father back to the rest of the exhausted professors.

Giovanni looks up from his hands. He looks less green after those motion sickness pills. "Oh. Ghetsis. That your son? Kinda looks like you. Oh, and there's these people too."

"Huh?"

"Ghetsis Harmonia!" That voice. Ghetsis gasps when a powerful hand slams into his backside.

"Lenora!" N chirps.

"Heya, N! And Ghetsis's _friends!_ Nice to see you again!" Everyone utters a weak hello. Lenora grins. "Oh, and you look as pale as ever, Cyrus! I should bring some gumbo next time."

"Gumbo?" Cyrus whispers. Ghetsis begins to clarify when he notices the people standing around his circle of associates.

"Ghetsis," Clay drawls in that country accent of his. "Darn reckon it was yer loud mug."

"So this is Rainbow Rocket university." Burgh is marveling at the viewing room like it's a work of art. "So big! So beautiful! You were right, Monsieur Fleur!"

"F-Fleur?!"

Drayden crosses his thick arms. "Lenora pulled us along after N invited her. I'm relieved that it's all virtual reality, though. Why, young people today are absolutely outstanding!"

Ghetsis blinks. "What… what is happening…?"

"HEY!" Gold screeches. "It's almost the second round, so be ready!"

"I'M NOT FRICKING DEAF!" N only laughs at his father's usual behavior. "And why are you yelling?! It's like you're intentionally keeping me from hearing—"

"GOLD IS RIGHT!" Crystal yells. "We've finished inspecting your vehicles! Designate your drivers and move on!"

"Bonjour, Professeur." Lysandre glances up to see a smirking Calem and Serena. The latter flashes a thumbs-up. "That was a good one. I almost cried."

Lysandre assumes that their comment alludes to the disastrous 12th and 13th place rankings. "Oh. Merci. I suppose."

Maxie rubs his eyes. "I-I can drive the second round. Lysandre, take a break. And Ghetsis, rest up." Ghetsis is secretly relieved, but he isn't about to let everyone know. N simply smiles at how his dad had found some great friends.

Cyrus rises, stumbles a bit, and straightens. "I will also drive in the second round. Thank you for your hard work, Archie. And Giovanni, please take care of yourself."

"Thanks, Cyrus," the two men mumble.

Lenora turns back to the father and son. "Give them hell, okay? I was on the edge of my seat the entire time, and I almost choked by laughing too hard."

"It's true," Clay rumbles. "Cryin' like yer fancy-pants over yonder—"

"IT'S TIME!" Gold and Crystal herd the participants out to the starting line. Ghetsis is too shaken to even protest. He happens to turn back to catch N's waving hands.

"Your son is wonderful," Giovanni grumbles. Ghetsis blinks. "At least he came to see you." 

"Ya better win this time, Leaf-Head!" Clay barks. "All of yer! Giovanni, Maxwell, Archibald, Cyrus, and Flower!"

"F-FLOWER?!"

"We're _Maxie_ and _Archie!"_

"Show them what it means to be a Unovan!" Drayden huffs. "In Unova!"

"You can do it, Dad's friends!" N calls. "We'll be here when you come back. We'll be watching!"

Gehtsis doesn't hear that last part. His own pounding heart drowns out his fatigue. His colleagues see that emotion on his face, and their own exhaustion also fades into the air.

"We will show them a world of pain," Giovanni growls, rubbing his knuckles.

"And leave them back in the last Mass Extinction," Maxie huffs. Archie grins and fist bumps his friend. Lysandre receives a hard pat on the back. Even Cyrus accepts Archie's art of friendship, albeit it's more of a confused knock than anything.

* * *

"Are you feeling well, Giovanni?"

"Yes. Much better." Giovanni grins. "Thanks, kid."

Archie pats his seat. "I'm right behind you, just in case!" _At least he's not wearing the wetsuit today, thank Mew._ "I'll make sure to cover your eyes."

"O-Oh. Thanks, Archie. I guess."

Ghetsis is waving to his son and the Gym Leaders. When he realizes that the other professors are staring at him, his wave changes into a fist that he shakes rather violently. "Who do you take me for?!" he roars to his beaming son. "I will freeze the competition into the next Ice-Age!"

"Someone's gotten their attitude back," Maxie mutters, gripping the steering wheel.

Lysandre smooths his hair under his helmet. "You… do know how to drive, Monsieur Maxie?"

"Never underestimate the Great Maxie!"

Giovanni shifts his gaze from the red-haired nerd to the blue-haired nerd. "Cyrus? You can drive, right?"

"Yes."

The thought of seeing Cyrus in a car is too wild to even imagine. Him doing anything _normal,_ for the matter. Archie shakes his head. "What do you drive at home, Cyrus?"

"A car. It can fly."

"Ah." Giovanni exchanges a glance with Archie. "You have a flying car."

"Yes." Cyrus turns back to reveal a glimpse of blue eye. "My car arrives at a click of my keys."

"Oh. That's… that's… nice. Cyrus."

"Look at those nerds!" cackles the jocks from earlier. Giovanni's knuckles feel very, very itchy, for some reason. Those fools leer from the comfort of their monster truck—all the way up there in 1st place. "What's with your team names? Go back to first grade, old man!"

"You—"

Cyrus silences them with a hand. Archie is scowling. "Cyrus—"

"They're not worth your time nor energy, Archie," is the cold reply. "Giovanni, do not lay a hand on them."

"But Cy—"

"I will completely crush them myself."

The two larger professors shrink back. All thirteen teams suddenly shiver. Gold and Crystal look around for the incoming blizzard in this fine spring day.

Lysandre glances back. "Relax, Cyrus. We'll all show them a tragic future, all right?"

Gold nudges Crystal. She gasps. "U-Um. Okay." She raises her flags. "R-Ready… Set… Go!"

* * *

The world changes again. A flurry of green leaves lift to reveal a sleepy town under chilly skies. In fact, it's unreasonably chilly. Giovanni's breath appears in a puff of white. But his rage quickly returns. "CYRUS!" The cart jumps. "Why are you sitting around? We're in last place again!!"

"MAXIE!" Ghetsis screeches. "Why aren't we moving?! I need my revenge!!"

"Give me a second, sheesh!" Maxie gropes for the controls. "I'm still getting used to this virtual reality thing!" Cyrus starts the cart when Maxie finally locates the pedal.

Lysandre pulls his fur coat tighter inwards. "Where are we? Why is it so cold? It's not Kalos, that's for sure."

"Twinleaf Town," Cyrus grunts.

"We're in Sinnoh." Maxie sighs. "Great. We're all going to be popsicles."

The carts roll up to sandy edges. Waves lap against the tires. Archie almost falls trying to touch a gawking Shellos.

"Cyrus?" Giovanni says pleasantly.

"Maxie?" Ghetsis's tone is completely in control.

"Yes?" the two say.

"You _do_ recall that this is a race, right, Cyrus?"

"Yes. Why do you ask, Giovanni?"

"Maxie, I'm pretty sure that the slug just passed you."

"That's impossible, Ghetsis. I’m traveling at—"

"THAT'S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!" the parents roar. "WHY THE HECK/HELL ARE YOU DRIVING AT THE SPEED LIMIT?!"

"DON'T YELL AT ME!" Maxie snaps. "Do you want to get hurt? I'm actually the sanest one on this crazy car ride!"

"Sit _down_ , Giovanni." Said man automatically sits down. Archie covers his mouth. Cyrus slowly turns back. "Do you want your motion sickness to resurface?"

"We're in 12th place, nerd!" Ghetsis accidently grazes Lysandre's flawless face. The latter scowls. "Get some Items! Hurry up! Hurry up!"

"Cyrus, I'm good. Really." Giovanni tries to keep his voice steady. He's barely succeeding. "But um… can you hurry up please? We're still in damn 13th place!" Cyrus exhales sharply. Nevertheless, he speeds up, causing Ghetsis to choke on Giovanni's dust.

"Bye Maxie!" The nerd's face reddens, but his lack of familiarity with driving non-submarine and safari vehicles has come back to bite him in the butt. Archie waves as his speedometer rises to 12th place.

Cyrus is a cautious driver. A very, very cautious driver. He never speaks, leaving Giovanni and Archie to sit in awkward pockets of silence. He never hits speed boosts.

Giovanni rocks the cart. "Get the Item, Cyrus!" Cyrus grimaces, but he complies.

"Finally!" Archie holds up the Golden Mushroom. Giovanni grins. Cyrus's eyes widen with just a bit of fear leaked in.

"Archie, don't—"

**_BOOM!_ ** Blue flames spark from engine. Archie whoops as the cart blurs down Jubilife City limits. Giovanni lets the wind hit his face—the stale, chilly air slapping him back to his vigorous self.

Cyrus is barely keeping his grip on the wheel. 12th. 11th. 10th…

"Oof, that's gotta hurt!" Archie remarks when they shove a cart aside like a discarded Banana Peel. Giovanni adds three Green Shells to make that a permanent scar.

_BOOF!_ The coal pile explodes in his face. Giovanni coughs and sputters; the cart rumbles out of Oreburgh Mine. Now the three of them are covered with soot.

"CYRUS! Watch where you're going!!"

Cyrus's grip tightens on the steering wheel. "Oh. I apologize, Giovanni. I will try harder next time, when I can actually control the cart." Archie snickers. Giovanni glares at the burly man.

The sweet smell of honey greets them in the next stage. Cyrus stays on the path as they weave through the meadows of Floaroma, the wheels never once touching the flowers.

"Sinnoh has flowers?" Giovanni mutters.

"Of course we do. It's not the Artic, Giovanni." Cyrus steals a glance at the multicolored blossoms. "We're making progress in 7th place. Do not touch anything."

"Hey Cyrus! Look!" Archie holds up a golden crystal. "I found it lying on the road!"

Giovanni inhales a deep whiff. "Mmm! Smells very nice! What Item is this?"

"What are you two—" Cyrus blanches. "Archie! Drop that now!"

"Huh? Why?"

_**BBBBBBZZZZZZTTTTT!**_ The skies suddenly turn dark. _Nighttime already?_ Giovanni leans closer and squints. _**BBBBZZZTTT!** No, the sky is moving. And humming. Sounds angry._

Cyrus jams the accelerator before a Beedrill can impale Giovanni in the face. Archie had dropped the beehive, but he still had honey on his fingers. Him licking his hands like a Beartic isn't helping matters at all.

"CYRUS, WE'RE BEING CHASED BY KILLER BEES!" Archie screams.

"Yes, I see that, Archie!" Cyrus's hands are everywhere. He's doing all he can to maintain safe distance between them and the angry horde. He hits a speed boost. Giovanni's spine almost flies out. Cyrus swerves to the Boxes. Archie's hurling Banana Peels and Green Shells. Giovanni attempts to help by flinging Lightning bolts to the bees.

"Giovanni! Archie!" **_BBZZZTTT!_ **"What are you doing?! What happened to the Mushrooms!"

"We got no Mushrooms, Cyrus!" Archie yells. "All we got is this Fireflower!" Cyrus gasps. But it's too late. Giovanni had yanked the weapon and is spraying the Pokemon with fire.

"Burn, you pests!" _It's just virtual reality. Even though their stinger is pulsating with poison, it's not real. Even though a Beedrill had dented the cart's backside with its stinger…_ "Sleep with the Magikarp!"

"Oh no…" Cyrus grits his teeth and shifts off the beaten path. He's driving diagonally, weaving through tall grass and flowers, his eyes peeled for a pond or a mud dune or anything else. "STOP AGITATING THEM!" The older men immediately drop their Bob-ombs because when Cyrus raises his voice, he should never be raising his voice. 

"We're in 4th place though," Giovanni says rather pathetically.

Archie juts his finger to the distance. "Cyrus! Cyrus, over there! We can hide in there!" Cyrus throws the cart off the race track to that mansion in the heart of the woods. _"WRONG TURN,"_ the monitor is beeping.

Cyrus plunges into the building, and Archie slams the door shut.

 ** _BZZZTTTT!_ ** The cart is strong enough to block the door. But the (virtual?) bees are strong, pushing through the wood until it bends, jabbing the stinger through the partition, revealing the gleaming tip of dripping poison.

Cyrus had killed the engine, plunging the room into silence. No one talks. Giovanni's heavy breathing bounce off the moldy walls like cannon shots. Archie watches their meter dropping from 4th… 8th… 11th… 12th… 13th place.

"Are they gone yet?" Giovanni whispers.

"I don't know." Archie blanches when he examines the cart. The very damaged, dented cart. He flicks at a stinger the size of his hand, watching it fall onto the floor with a dull thump.

And there's silence. Silence, except for the creaking roof of the Old Chateau and the glinting eyes in the darkened hallways that await the professors.

* * *

"Holy Ho-Oh! Crystal! Crystal, we lost them!"

Crystal runs over to the monitor, hurriedly flicking through the cameras. Her face pales. "GOLD! What in Lugia's Silver Wing is going on? Who programmed the Beedrill in?!"

"You said to keep it real, Crys! I kept it as real as possible! And besides, they signed the waiver—"

"Gold, this is terrible! We're missing Professor Cyrus's signal completely!" She glances outwards to the viewing room. The spectators are whispering amongst each other, pointing at the blackened squares on the screen.

"What's happening?" The two yelp at the head of green hair. N had removed his cap. "Where's Dad's friends?"

"Um…" Gold bites his lips. "Um… they must've interacted with something weird in the programming. We put that old mansion there for added realism, but it's not part of the race. Um… so. There's no cameras in there."

"Damn, I actually tolerated Ghetsis's friends." Lenora had followed N into the broadcasting room. "Where the hell are they?"

Gold and Crystal exchange looks. "They'll be okay," she says with a shaky smile. "They're professors at RRU. IF anyone can find a way, they can… I hope."

* * *

The cart rolls down darkened hallways. _TIP. TIP. KREEEEE---_

"I can use a Mauville Ramen Bowl," Archie says. "Sometimes Maxie and I stop by the Mauville Food Court if we get sick of each other's cooking."

"O-Oh. Really?" A chill is growing in Giovanni's stomach. Chills and gooseflesh. "Kanto doesn't have anything special. Just the regular three drinks."

Something thumps on the roof. Giovanni doesn't recall there being a third floor. A door opens to reveal darkness beyond.

"Gio," Archie whispers. Said man leans in. "Cyrus is creeping me out. Can you check if he's okay?"

"Me? You do it!"

"Nuh-uh! You're right behind him!"

"Your arms are longer!"

 _R-RUMP. RUMP. DUP-DUP._ They pass by a really disturbing painting that Giovanni swears wasn't smiling before.

"Gio, check on him!" Archie jabs Giovanni in the spine. Where it hurts.

"Damn it!" Giovanni clears his throat. He smooths his vest and slicks back his hair. "H-Hey. Cyrus." _Damn that's loud._ "Cyrus. You doing okay?" His hands are trembling. If Giovanni leans in closer, he hears the remnants of ragged breaths, some sort of incantation—

"Whenknowledgeisexpandedlifeisenrichedwhenemotionawakens—"

Giovanni smacks that kid in the back of the head. Cyrus gasps. He turns back with eyes that are too wide and too bright.

"Cyrus?" Archie squeaks.

"Do not touch anything. If something waves at you, do not look at it. If you see a purple flame, turn away. If you hear something, cover your ears, regardless of how pleasant the song may be."

"Yes, sir." The older professors sink back into the chairs. Cyrus turns to the uncharted road. Giovanni's aware of Archie's hands on his shoulders, but at this very moment, human touch is the best commodity in the world.

"Giovanni!"

Giovanni's neck snaps up. _That voice--! That's… that's…_

"Giovanni!" Flaring red hair catches in the darkening light. Clip. Clop. Heels not far away.

"Ariana?!"

The love of his life smiles. Giovanni's eyes slide from her face… her ring… the child by her side.

_Silver._

"Giovanni, why are you still working?" Her voice is warm and fuzzy. Bright. Real. "Silver helped made your favorite poached-fish stew. He's looking so forward for your coming home. Join us. It's the Holidays, after all."

"Dad!" The child laughs, extending his chubby arms to his father. "Dad, come home! Play with me!"

Ariana laughs. A twinkly, familiar laugh. The room grows brighter. "Oh, and look who I invited. He's also looking for his friend."

Archie's eyes widen at the other red-head. The turtleneck. Those stupid nerd glasses that's brought him so much joy.

"Maxie!" he yells.

Maxie smiles. "Archie! Archie, buddy, don't run off like that! Don't hide in that suit of armor! Ah, water under the bride now! Come join us! You, me, Giovanni… we'll celebrate the Holidays like one big, happy family!"

Giovanni and Archie stare at each other. Archie rubs his eyes. Giovanni swallows that lump in this throat. The two colleagues put their arms over the other's shoulder.

"Great," Maxie hums. His laugh is not as nasal as they remembered it. "Come then, Archie. Come to us."

"Come to us, Giovanni." Ariana's absolutely brimming with light.

"Come to us, Dad!" Glowing wings sprout from Silver's back. His arms are open and inviting, the embrace of divine light in his dad's bleak and desolate world. "Let us become a happy family once again."

"Ariana… Silver…"

"Maxie…"

Something's holding them back. A belt of chains. With a simple click, the chains fall off, and the two men grin at each other before heading to the light—

 ** _SMACK!_ **The light dies. Darkness. Walls? Pictures? Dark. So dark.

"Archie! Giovanni!" Another **_SMACK!_ **Pain. Light. Something by his arm. Teeth. Pincer. Fangs digging into his flesh—

"AUUUGH!" Archie's scream rocks the old mansion.

"What the hell?!" Giovanni leers into the face of his surprised colleague. "Cyrus, you brat! Why the hell did you slap me?!"

"Why'd you pinch us, kid?" Archie angrily presents the red indention in his arm. "What's the big idea?!"

Cyrus blinks. Then his brows scrunch together into an exasperated frown. "I told you not to listen to anything!" They wince. "I turn my back for one second, and you're undoing your seatbelts to head off to who-knows-where!"

"B-But Ariana—"

"She's not here, Giovanni! Archie, Maxie is not here!" Cyrus jabs a finger to the distance. The older men crane their necks to a shiny mass of crawling darkness. Eyes glint in the gloom, the blob dispersing into a cloud of Gastly, Misdreavus, and Lampents.

But Cyrus isn't done. "You two weren't responding! You're aware of the consequence of Lampent's lure, yes? Hallucinations, mirages, tricks to mess with the head!

"Focus! We need to find a way out of the mansion and return to the race! Then you can see Ariana and Maxie again, in the real world!"

 _Race._ "But we're dead last, Cyrus," Archie mumbles. "I don't even know how long we're been in here. Does it even matter—"

"Yes." The older men start. "We came here with a goal. We must see it through. There's no point in abandoning anything halfway, Archie and Giovanni. Despite the odds, we must still persevere."

It takes a while for Giovanni to find his voice. "Cyrus…" Cyrus turns back. His lips are tugged slightly, but that little gesture is all that's needed for the fire of conviction to rekindle in their hearts.

Archie nods. "Okay, Cyrus. Let's get back to the race."

They drive down opened corridors, plunging deeper into the maze of neglect. Giovanni and Archie keep their hands above their ears, their eyes shielded from any bright light or paranormal disturbances.

Cyrus turns. Giovanni opens his ears. "What? You were saying something, Cyrus?"

"You didn't call me?"

Archie also puts his hands down. "Um… no."

Something flashes in those faded eyes. "Ah. I-I'm sorry. Never mind."

"Cyrus?"

Cyrus stiffens. Giovanni heard that. Archie did too.

"Cyrus, is that you?" Loud and clear like hammer against glass. Something shifts in the side. A shape. Eyes. Hands. A bowler hat.

"Cyrus, it is you!" the old man cries. Cyrus stops breathing. "I've been waiting for you to come over! It's summertime, remember?"

"Cyrus!" Giovanni can't even hear the kid's pulse.

"I've got a good story today. Come on, son. Come in. I've made some soup too."

Archie shoots a glance to his older colleague. "Cyrus." His tone is uncharacteristically stern. "Cyrus, don't fall for it."

"Why are you leaving, Cyrus? I've been waiting for you. Don't go, Cyrus… I have no one but you. You're the light of my life."

"CYRUS!" Giovanni smacks that hand before it can reach for the seatbelt. He grabs the kid's shoulders, spinning him back. "CYRUS! WAKE UP! THIS IS NOT REAL! WE'RE REAL, CYRUS, ARCHIE AND I!"

"You don't want to go home, Cyrus? My house will always be open for you. You're enough, Cyrus. I'll always be proud of you."

"CYRUS!" Archie's fist slaps across that fatless face. Cyrus blinks, but he's still hypnotized by that phantom. Giovanni slaps him again. They take turns slapping that kid back to the real world.

Then Cyrus gasps. He pushes himself away from the violent colleagues. "I'm sorry." His voice belongs to someone else. Someone smaller. Afraid. "I'll try harder next time. Please let me visit Gra—"

"CY—AAURP!" That name is destroyed when the loudest burp rips from Archie's mouth. Giovanni's eyebrows tremble at such a stench. But that's all it took for the light to return to Cyrus's eyes, and upon that awakening, the old man vanishes into the gloom, returning silence to the mansion once more.

"Cyrus?" Giovanni mutters. The younger man rubs his eyes. He's staring at the older men as if they're faraway, despite the lack of distance between them. Then he abruptly turns away and floors it.

No one speaks as the cart slices through darkness. Wait. A line. A stream. Rivulets of light sparkling in the distance. Bands of blue, of red, green… fading, glitching in and out of existence. The cart lurches forward into the sun…

…and slams into a pile of mud.

Giovanni hacks a wad of filth from his mouth. "What the hell?! Where are we? Why is it raining? I just had this suit steam-cleaned!"

Cyrus puts up the umbrella on his second try. "This is Pastoria City. Known for its Great Marsh. Rare Pokemon can be found here from the elusive Croagunk to the rare Skorupi because it is the Great Marsh and this is Pastoria City. Yes."

Archie squints into the distance. "Yo, where did we fall from? Did we just fall from the sky? Where's the forest? The mansion? The horde of angry Beedrill that wanted our heads?"

"P-Perhaps that was a glitch. We are back on track now. Ah, and it seems that we are in 4th place."

Archie and Giovanni gasp. The latter strikes his fists into his pockets, straightens, and unleashes a cackle full of repressed anxiety and joy. "We did it!" he roars, his proclamation cutting through the din of rain. "Eat _that,_ you pretentious vegetable!"

As he boasts to the sky, Cyrus is yanking the stick and jamming the accelerator. "Yes, but we need to get out of the Marsh if we are to proceed."

 _FWOOOSH!_ Shadows soar over the cart. The professors peer under their umbrella to see hang-gliding vehicles in the skies.

"NERDS!" the jocks jeer. "Look where you're driving!"

"Don't look down, Platinum! Wait, Dia, is that… is that Professor Cyrus?"

"Wah he's gonna catch us, White! Faster, faster!"

"I'll make you pay for that Red Shell, you ungrateful brats! Kiss your participation points goodbye!"

"My students are participating?" Cyrus mutters.

"Red, is that the old man? Oh, shoot, Leaf, look! They're stuck in the mud! That's where they were all this time!"

Giovanni is suddenly very glad that he's sitting in the middle so he can hide his face.

"Hi, Professor Archie!"

"Oh! Heya, scamps! I'll see you and Brendan in class!"

Giovanni smacks Archie's waving hand. "Archie, you idiot! We're dead last again! Even that stupid Leaf-Head's in front of us!"

Cyrus exhales sharply. "Giovanni, please stop complaining and help me." Giovanni flushes. Archie snickers. So he deserves that hand to the neck.

After some futile attempts to rock the cart to redistribute the mud, Giovanni happens to look down. _Has Archie's ass ever been so… big?_

"Archie, you're sitting on something."

Archie shifts. He pulls out that Item—and brightens. "We must've hit an Item Box on the way out!" he exclaims, marveling at the Golden Mushroom. "Cyrus, I know what to do!"

Cyrus turns over his shoulder. His eyes are dim, but he nods. "All right. On my count. One. Two… Three!"

 ** _VROOM!_ **The cart flies from the marsh. Archie slams the Mushroom again and again, creating a volume of air between the wheels and the ground. Cyrus deploys the hang-glider, barely dodging a whizzing Blue Shell, and soon they're gliding over the rain-soaked grounds of Pastoria to the icy gales of Snowpoint City. There are even Item Boxes in the sky. Giovanni laughs as he rains Banana Peels all over the earth.

"Maxie, duck!" Archie roars before the Bob-ombs drop. **_BOOM! BOOM!_ **Then Maxie's cart pulls up to 5th place. The man squints up into the skies, and his face bursts into relief when he sees his friend.

"Archie! You're safe!"

Archie grins. "Of course I am. I'm Archie of Team Rainbow Rocket!"

"How are you flying?" Lysandre gasps, but he's laughing. "That's not fair! Eugh, and why are you all covered in mud and grass? Watch where you're going!"

"We took a detour." Giovanni's gaze connects with Ghetsis's. The parents leer at each other from across the vast expanse of clouds. Then Ghetsis juts his cane upwards.

"I thought you retired early when you failed to reach Hearthome. Our rivalry's just gotten started, Giovanni, so you better not chicken out!"

The other participants stare at the six grown men. A cart on the ground is talking to the only flying cart. They keep their distance, just in case.

Giovanni laughs. So does Archie. Cyrus maneuvers the gliding cart past the shrieking hail and into 4th place.

"Giovanni. Archie?"

"Yeah, Cyrus?"

A pause. A light turn of the head. A crinkle in the eye.

"Thank you."

The older men grin. They don't need specification. "Of course, kid." Giovanni pats that fluffy head. "We're a team."

Archie pumps his fists. "Bwahaha! Now let's keelhaul that nerd and his nerdy group!"

* * *

"They're safe!"

The spectators exhale a collective sigh of relief. Lenora sinks back into the chair. Clay lays a hand on her shoulder while Drayden exchanges a terse nod with Burgh.

"They're safe," N whispers to Gold. "Holy Darminatan, what was that?"

"I… I don't know. They just… popped out of nowhere."

"It's a glitch," Crystal mutters. "Even we don't know the full code for that mansion, much less what happened in there…"

A young man runs up to them. "But they're okay right?" he gasps. "My old man's okay, right?"

"Hey dude." Gold exchanges their secret handshake. "Don't worry. Professor Giovanni's fine. Look. He's laughing. He's _laughing_ as he drops Bob-ombs and Fireballs on people."

"And they're _flying."_ Crystal shakes her head. "They're flying into a blizzard. They really are crazy."

"But he's having fun." Heads turn to an older woman. Her smirk matches her son's. "Bastard's having the time of his life. And everyone's cheering for him."

"Go go Leader Maxie!" A duo sporting matching red outfits (onsies?) are doing something that resembles a dabbing dance. It's… attention-catching, that's for sure. "Expand the land! Expand the land!"

"Archie's gonna wash you up!" Another duo sporting blue gear (wetsuits?) snorts back. "Increase the sea! Increase the sea!"

"Who are they?" Crystal squeaks through the cracks in her fingers.

"They probably came to support," their friend huffs. "The old man's friends are embarrassing. Just like him."

The woman chuckles. "When he gets back, I'll help you say that to his face."

* * *

The cart finally touches ground. After surfing past the seas at Canalave, they're heading down a sandy path with ocean on both sides.

"Damn that Lettuce-Head," Giovanni is growling. "Damn him and his Banana Peel. Damn him and his Fake Boxes."

Archie slams the side of the cart. "Lion-man's got a mean streak. He didn't even hesitate to throw that Red Shell in my face! I can never aim my Green Shells right. He even has the nerve to minimize us with that Lightning!"

"And those pesky brats shoved us aside with their damn Starman!"

"Students are merciless, Gio! That Blue Shell was flying everywhere! Yo, and I think we destroyed half of Mt. Coronet with the bombs!"

"Eh. Mountains always grow back."

"Um, no they don't, Gio."

"Technically, they do," Cyrus hums. "Although it's a much more complicated process that will span geological time scales."

Archie rolls his eyes, but he's smirking. "You and that nerd should talk about rocks more often."

"We do, actually. I had the pleasure of seeing his rock collection. Just last weekend we traveled to the island's volcano to collect topsoil samples. Maxie wished to measure geological activity just in case—"

The cart screeches to a halt. Giovanni would've flown out if not for his trusty seatbelt, and the fact that he's sandwiched between two men. Archie's pointy beard hurts like hell though.

"Cyrus?" Giovanni grunts. "What's wrong? We're in the final leg of the race."

Silence. "N-Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I apologize. W-We should be going." Then the cart rumbles down the gleaming solar panel tracks. The fresh breeze of coconut wafts in the air. Cold weather meet humid beach. It's the strange combination not commonly found in Kanto or Hoenn.

"It's just virtual reality," Cyrus is mumbling as his knuckles whiten with each distance that they cover. "Details have been preserved to ensure maximum realism. It's just computer code. Binary. It's not real."

"Cyrus?"

"I'm sorry."

Cyrus is silent as the cart treks down the residential districts of Sunyshore. He's driving in the middle of the lane as to not come close to the interactive buildings. Multicolored bubbles flutter past their faces. Palm trees bend in the wind.

A cart pulls up to them. "Hey, you might want to be a little faster, Professor, if you want to leave 13th place."

"You're in 12th place, Blue?" Giovanni says.

Blue shrugs. Leaf turns back. "Last place has the best items," she says. Red drives into an Item Block, and a Blue Shell appears into her grip. "Especially this baby, Professor. This thing's a killer."

"What is that?" Archie huffs. Leaf laughs and hands the potent weapon to him, much to their shocks. She tells him to try it. Archie confers with Giovanni before he launches the spiny shell to the distance. They wait.

 ** _BOOOOM!_ **Screams can be heard. Leaf cackles. Blue and Red quietly shift away. "I hate those jocks," she says to students and professors alike. "Now we'll steal back our victory through this bad boy." It's a chain of some sort. "Bye, Professors! See you at the finish line!

"Oh, and lighten up, Professor Cyrus! You're having so much fun!" The students accelerate away with their giant munching chain abomination. And soon it's just the three men in last place. Again.

"Your students are right." Cyrus hits some boost pedals, driving straight into the Item Boxes. "We came here to win."

"Um… I thought we came here to check out the Mechanics Club."

"Ah yes. That too, Archie."

Giovanni pats the Blue Shell before he hurls it. _**BOOOM!**_ Archie throws down a Starman. _**BAM! BAAM!**_ Enemies fly away from the encroaching three-man cart. Cyrus's hands are whipping up a storm, his eyes simultaneously darting to the rearview mirrors to avoid Green Shells, Red Shells, and an incoming rainbow-glowing cart.

"Arceus, Dia, that's the Ice King!" a student yelps. "He's coming! AHHH Platinum, move, move! He's gonna kill us!"

Cyrus frowns. "And why would I do that, Mister Pearl?"

Pearl's jaw drops. "Holy—Holy Dia! Dia! He knows my name! He's out to get me!!"

Cyrus drives forward without another word. Archie and Giovanni exchange glances. "Cyrus—"

"I understand. I'm well aware of how off-putting my face can be."

As the older men reflect on that statement, another voice jars them out of that reverie. "Giovanni!" Lysandre! "You're here!"

"Of course we are!" is the snarky reply. "And look at you. 2nd place, huh?"

"This idiot drives like a grandma!" Ghetsis jabs a finger at Maxie, who turns back and scowls. "He moved aside for a pebble! A PEBBLE! Who stops for a scenic view in the middle of the race?!"

"Mt. Coronet boasts impressive physical features!" Maxie hisses. "And aren't you tired from yelling all the time!! Sheesh, the only reason that we're even in 2nd place is thanks to all those Blue Shells that came out of nowhere!"

Ghetsis gnashes his teeth. But his frown falls when he casts his gaze to the rival team. "Hey. What's wrong with you three? You look… not normal."

A collective glance. A silent understanding. "We're still reeling from the fact that we're in 3rd place," Archie hums. Giovanni nods. "We're always in last place."

"We're approaching the final round," Cyrus says. "Mt. Coronet. Archie."

"You got it, buddy." Clammy, sweaty palms press against Giovanni's eyes.

"H-Hey!" Archie's stronger than a damn Kangaskhan. "What the hell, Cyrus! Unhand me at once, Archie!"

"That won't be a good idea," Ghetsis snickers from the darkness.

"Oh yeah? I'll wipe that smirk off—" Then the world tilts. Just a bit, but enough to rip Giovanni's stomach to shreds. The ground's shifting… inclining… the dreadful sensation of looking down from a waterfall that extended into the heavens.

"I'm glad the wheels have traction. This slope is almost 90°."

"Maxie, watch out for that banana!" The cart jerks violently to the side. Giovanni can taste his dinner from two days ago.

"We're almost there, Giovanni." Cyrus's voice is flat like solid ground. "Just a bit more."

"Woah, Cyrus, check out this cliff!"

"Archie, you are not helping."

_**HIIIISSSS! BOOOOM!** _

"Was that an earthquake?" Giovanni whispers.

"It's a stupid Blue Shell, old man. Be careful, the floor's collapsing!"

"Employ your hang-gliders. There's no reason for us to turn back now, when we've made it so far. If we make this jump—no, when we make this jump, we'll reach Spear Pillar, where the finish line awaits."

Silence. Archie isn't letting any light into his world. Maybe that's a good thing.

"Okay, Cyrus. Let's win this together. Ghetsis, Lysandre, hold on! We're taking the leap!"

Giovanni grabs the nearest thing he can find: that thing being cold and quite bony. He feels it flinch, but that's about it. Archie presses himself tighter to Giovanni. The ground lifts. Wheels flying on air. Screaming… lots of screaming…

Then bright, blinding light.

* * *

Cyrus still wouldn't look up from his hands. Even after everyone assured him that it wasn't his fault, for the millionth time.

"I'm sorry," he repeats for the millionth-and-one time.

"Geez kid, it's not your fault!" Ghetsis sniffs. "That rock fell out of nowhere! And who would've thought that the stupid Red Shell can fly?!"

"I should've known that, Ghetsis. I was ignorant. Of course I would mess up. I should've known better…"

"Cyrus…"

"Please leave me alone, Lysandre."

 _SMACK!_ Cyrus's head snaps up to see Giovanni's raised hand. "Kid! Cyrus!" The latter grits his teeth. "I'm sick of repeating myself. I don't want to hear another word from you!"

"Gio's right." Archie puts a comforting hand on Cyrus's shoulder. "You tried your best. And I had so much fun! I've always wanted to hang-glide in a cave!"

"Don't waste your pity on me."

Maxie sits next to the younger man. "Archie's not lying, Cyrus. He's been begging me to go zip-lining in a cave. What does it matter if we're last place? It's the first time I've ever done something so wildly exhilarating in my life!"

"You were so cool, Mister Cyrus."

Heads turn to see that smirking young man with flaming red hair. He laughs at their reactions. "We were cheering for you!"

Giovanni shoots up to his feet. "Silver! A-A-And Ariana? You came!"

"Of course we did, you sly old dog." Ariana gazes into his face… and slaps it with a gentle, loving hand. "Who cares if you didn't win? You were having so much fun."

"BOSS!"

Maxie and Archie turn. "Tabitha! Courtney!" His team leaps on him, leaving the thin, bespectacled man to sputter for air.

"Shelly! Matt!" Archie throws his arms over his team. "Aw, you scamps came too?"

"We chipped in when we saw that you were competing!" Tabitha grins. "Of course we had to see Leader Maxie in battle! You were so cool, Boss!"

"Of course Leader Maxie is cool," Courtney mutters. "You dare think otherwise, Tabitha?"

"Bro, where'd you disappear to, bro?" Matt cries. "Suddenly you just popped from the sky!"

"Don't scare us like that, Archie!" Shelly punches that beefy chest. "Be glad it's just virtual reality!"

Ghetsis turns to see a grinning N and the Gym Leaders. Lenora rushes forward and kicks the man's good arm before he can even do anything. N's clapping like it's a Unovan soccer game. "You tried your best, Dad! Everyone was so happy for you and your friends!"

 _Beep. Beep._ Lysandre frowns as he produces the Holo-Caster from his false pockets.

_"Bonjour, Fleur!"_

Lysandre does a double-take. "A-Augustine? What are you…?"

_"Holy Xerneas I couldn't take my eyes off the TV! Haha, I just failed two deadlines, but it's so worth it to see you race about in the rain!"_

Lysandre blinks. Then he smirks. "You need to organize your priorities, Justine. Like always."

_"D-Do not call me that! We're not children anymore!"_

_"Boys, boys."_ Diantha's person flashes into sight, earning a majority of gasps from the spectators in the room. _"Justine, leave Fleur alone. We do not want him crying again."_

"Don't call me Fleur, Dede!"

 _"Dede?! Now listen here, you Pyroar cosplayer with your fake pockets, ferme ta gueule! I have a reputation to maintain!"_ Sycamore's laughing too hard to take her threats seriously. Lysandre's also laughing. The scowl fades off Diantha's face, and soon she's snickering into her hand.

Lysandre wipes a tear from his eye. "Oh, the same as ever, Dede. It's such a pleasure to see you two again—Wait. Wait, what did you say about the crying?"

Cyrus watches their heartfelt reunion without his usual frown. He moves aside so everyone can sit down and be with their teams. There's an empty chair in the corner, and that's what he takes.

 _RING!_ He flips his phone. "You've reached Cyrus."

_"BOSS!"_

A pause. "Saturn? Is something wrong with the company?"

_"What? No, sir. We don't work on weekends, remember?"_

_"Saturn, there's a line behind you!"_ A scuffle. _"Hey, Boss! Are you still alive?"_

"Mars? Yes, of course I am. Is something the matter?"

_"We saw you drive, Boss! You even made that car fly, just like the one at home! Hey, Butt-Butt, get your butt out of the TV!"_

Cyrus grimaces and rubs his ears. Another scuffle. Yelling. Sounds of bodies throwing themselves against each other.

_"Cyrus."_

"Jupiter. Jupiter, am I needed back there?"

 _"Oh, we're fine, really. We just have one TV. And you only have one phone, so… Yes, yes, you'll get your turn soon, Saturn! R-8, B-2, help me out here!"_ A pause. _"We just wanted to check in. See how you're doing. Did you have fun, Cyrus?"_

Cyrus blinks. He glances to the rambunctious group beyond him. _"Oh Cyrus,"_ she says when she receives his answer. _"You worried us when you suddenly disappeared into the Old Chateau. But you still made it back to the race. Don't worry, victory isn't decided only by points!"_

"Thank you, Jupiter." Cyrus covers his mouth with his sleeves. "Thank you for calling me. I—Excuse me, Jupiter. Can you repeat that? How did you know that I was participating in the first place?"

* * *

Gold and Silver watch this touchy reunion with quivering chins. "Even though they're dead last, everyone showed up to support them," Gold sniffs.

"Our ratings are skyrocketing." Crystal dabs a tear with a napkin. "Hopefully more people will be interested, and we can have an official club like the RRU Shipping Club."

"We still need an adviser, though." Gold juts his chin to the corner of the room. Cyrus is talking on the phone… not really talking, just sitting and listening. Sometimes he'd yank the phone from his ear, but he always puts it back.

"And they say that he's cold and heartless," Crystal whispers, nudging her friend. "Holy Jirachi, look at that. The sun's come out."

"They're all pretty nice," Gold murmurs. "I think they're really having fun, Crys. They're not faking it either. Gee, I find myself always watching their screen when I'm supposed to be monitoring everything. Heh, how much you wanna bet that most people came just so they'll see what those old men will do next?"

"Right on the money, Gold. I really don't care if they win either. Silver's old man is actually a big softie. From all the rumors I've heard, I thought he'd be a crime boss or something—"

"Gold! Crys!" Heads turn to see a panicked Silver. "Run! If he catches you—"

"Gold. Crystal."

The students freeze, Silver included. Very, very slowly they turn back to see the powerful bosses just standing there. Leering down at them.

"Y-Y-Yes, P-P-Professor G-G-Giovanni?" Gold gasps.

Maxie has his hands behind his back. His glasses glare out his eyes. "I believe you owe us an explanation."

Archie's lips lift to reveal gleaming fangs. "You were filming us? And it's live? Seriously?"

"Normally, I wouldn't mind that, but you've taken it too far!" Lysandre's face is as bright as his hair. "No one was supposed to see that! I have an image to maintain! And now the whole world's…"

"I didn't sign up to wake up on a stupid weekend just to be made fun of all over the region!" Ghetsis jams his cane on the floor. The walls tremble slightly. "I'm supposed to be perfect!"

Silver is nowhere to be seen. Gold and Crystal back away until they bump into something cold. An ice block. Cyrus stares down at them with a tilted gaze, his hands clasped behind his back, his legs evenly planted on the floor.

 _Oh well._ Gold closes his eyes. _At least everyone will get an A…_

"B-But we thought you knew!" Crystal rummages through the pack, almost dropping the waivers. The signed waivers. "I-I-It's right here! This clause!"

Maxie takes the papers and shows it to his colleagues. "I don't remember that!" hisses Ghetsis.

Gold is gawking at Crystal. "B-But it's right there!" she insists. "You signed it!"

A silence. "That is indeed our signatures," Lysandre mutters.

Archie drops his voice. "I still don't remember it being there. I mean, I read that two times before signing."

"So did I, but it's here." The men are whispering amongst each other now. Gold remembers to close his jaw. Crystal's fists are clenched.

Then Giovanni looks up. "Men. We really, _really_ need to read the fine print." That earns him a unanimous, silent agreement.

Maxie clears his throat. "Very well. I apologize, Gold and Crystal. Please accept our sincerest apologies. We didn't mean to raise our voices."

"I-It's okay...?"

Cyrus gives a small nod. It could've been a tiny bow instead. "Please forgive us for the misunderstanding. I assure you that this matter will not repeat itself. Will you still permit us to continue the race?"

 _Race?_ Gold mentally and physically slaps himself. "U-U-Um! Yes! Yes, sir! Please! Please continue!"

"Cheesus, thank Kyurem for—" Ghetsis stiffens. "I-I mean, good! GOOD! I'm not about to drop out because of a little…erk! Whatever! Come on, professors! Let's finish what we started!"

As the professors shuffle away (after another apology from Cyrus), Gold finds his lungs and runs back to his friend. "Crys! Holy Ho-Oh, Crys! Can you believe this! We're saved!"

"Gold…"

"What? Crys, you should be happy! We're spared!"

She clasps her hands to her mouth. "Oh, Gold! I feel so bad!"

Gold's face shifts from confusion to disbelief to shock to pure, unfiltered terror. "Cyrs, Holy Jirachi, Crys… What did you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO, CRYS?!!"

"I had to! It was in the heat of the moment! They would've gotten mad at us and quit the race! And then our club would be ruined! Worst case scenario, we'll get expelled!"

"HOLY HO-OH, CYRS!!!!"

A hand lays on their shoulders. They scream. "Nah, that's great, Crys." Silver's laughing as if what Crystal did was perfectly normal. "You don't win life by playing fair. See, that's what makes RRU students different from the rest!

"Now go out there and finish this!"

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay in the back, Cyrus?"

"Yes. I'll be fine. I have my seat belt."

"I don't know, Gio… what if he falls? He'll fly out if we turn too quickly."

Giovanni scoffs. "Archie, I can drive with my eyes closed. We'll be fine. Trust me."

"I'm finally driving," Ghetsis says with a snicker. "Wait until that mafia-face gets a big mouthful of my dust. Myahaha…"

Lysandre hesitates before getting into the vehicle. "Ghetsis, are you sure? Your arm…"

"I bested Giovanni in the Cook-Off with this hand, Lysandre. Do not underestimate me! I am sheer perfection!"

"That's not what concerns me…" Lysandre shifts his gaze to something more tolerable. "Maxie. Do you want to sit in the middle? What if you fly off?"

"I want to see that fish-brain's face when he slips on a Banana Peel."

"Ah. O-Of course. Carry on then."

The jocks come again. But before they can even open their mouths, the parents glare at them, and they scamper back to their carts.

"That brat's watching," Ghetsis mutters. "Stupid Lenora's here too. And that fake cowboy Clay… that weirdo Drayden and that creepy tree-hugger Burgh…"

"Shelly's rooting for us, Maxie!" Maxie nods at his friend's sentiment. "Tabitha's betting with Matt. And Courtney's really into it, judging from… all those cut-outs… of your face…"

Giovanni grips the steering wheel. "Silver came. Ariana came too. I'll show that ungrateful brat just how cool his damn dad can be…"

"Everyone is watching at home," Cyrus says. "Let us strive forward until the end."

Archie inhales deeply. "On three! One! Two! Three!"

"RAINBOW ROCKET!"

Gold stops in his tracks. "Ugh! They are so embarrassing!"

"But they're so cute!" Crystal chirps with a sly twinkle in her eye. "I can't wait for the final round!"

The students run up to the starting line. "Participants! This is the last leg! Keep strong! Remember, winning isn't everything!"

"But revenge is!" a lettuce-headed man roars.

Gold coughs politely. "Y-Yes. Okay. Are you mark? Get set…"

"I will make them experience a world of pain!"

"I can't wait to see the looks on their faces when they've lost all hope!"

"GO!"

* * *

"Gio..!"

"..ova…"

"Giovanni!"

A smack to the back of his head whips him back to earth. A pinch to his elbow slaps him back to life. Giovanni gasps. Yes. It's just the three of them. In last place… again…

"What the heck, old man?" Ghetsis's voice can be heard from the distance. "Wake up!"

"Giovanni!" Archie bashes him in the chin.

"ARCHIEEEEE!"

Cyrus pokes his head out from behind the burly man. "Giovanni, I can drive—"

"NO! No, I can do it. I-I can do it. It's my turn to carry the team."

Archie glances around the star-speckled stage. "Um… are you sure? We're pretty high up."

"I'm fine!" Giovanni jams the accelerator. His eyeballs shoot to his brain. Archie lunges for the brakes just in time before the cart leaps off Rainbow Road.

"Giovanni, look at me." Said man obediently complies. "Now, set your stick to R. NO, DON'T LET GO OF THE BRAKES YET! A-All right. Easy, Giovanni. Remember to breathe."

"I-I'm not a child, Cyrus." _It's supposed to be the other way around, dammit!_

A comet shoots across the starry skies. Archie peers into the distance—into the endless, sprawling galaxy. Nothing but a Rainbow Road that loops, twists, and spirals into infinity. "That star is laughing at me," Giovanni hisses, but it sounds more of a whimper.

"Don't you dare look down!" Cyrus snaps, and Giovanni silently thanks the kid.

"Let's just take it slow," Archie says. "No rush. At your own pace, Gio—"

Giovanni swerves to avoid the Speed Boosts. Archie opens his eyes to find a Golden Mushroom in his hand. There are no railings separating this slippery road from the bottomless darkness that awaits on either side. Archie releases an F-bomb that reverberates down the empty galaxy. The gears are clanking loudly in Cyrus's head. And Giovanni…

"DAMN IT!" he screams to the constellation of a grinning Meowth.

* * *

Maxie keeps his eyes straight forward. "Holy Groudon, where are they? Did they even leave the starting line? Did something happen to them?"

Lysandre purses his lips. "Perhaps they're just being cautious. This course is slippery, after all."

"No." All heads turn to the driver. "No, Giovanni's driving."

"Is there a problem with that?"

"Yes, you big nerd. Look at this stage. We're on a stupid Rainbow Road in the **sky.** It's worse than at the Theme Park. There's nothing separating us from the road and total humiliation."

Maxie shakes his head. "Oh no… but we promised that we'd win as a team…"

"Don't give up, Monsieur Maxie," Lysandre says as he serves a dish of Red Shells to the enemy. "Believe in them. They'll think of something."

Ghetsis finds himself smirking. Smiling? "Yup. They're not professors for nothing, Maxie. Any minute now and they'll come screaming down the road. I swear it on my son's Zorua."

* * *

"Dad must be very confident if he's betting my Zorua," N grumbles as he watches the colorful screen.

Lenora jabs a finger at the distressed Giovanni in question. "Someone give that man a slap to the face! It's just a little height! Why's he being such a big baby?"

"They're up in the stars," Tabitha mutters. "That's a long way from earth, Courtney."

Silver has his face in his hands. Ariana's acting disinterested so people won't associate her with the man on the screen.

"What do we do now, Crys?" Gold whispers. "At this rate, they'll never catch up!"

"Shh! Where's your spirit, Gold? They're RRU's finest!" She taps her cheek. "You have to believe in them! They'll find a way! They'll always come back!"

* * *

"This is going nowhere."

"Agreed."

Giovanni snaps his jaw. "Hey, it's not my fault! I'm doing my damn best here!"

"We know, but it's just not WORKING!" Archie's voice resonates through the heavens. "I'm thinking of getting out to push the cart, but Kyogre knows how slippery Rainbow Road is!"

"D-Do not underestimate me, Archie! I can do this! I can—AUGH!"

"ACK, GIOVANNI, BRAKE IT! BRAKE IT! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!"

"I AM WA—" The world tilts on its side. Giovanni ducks down to the safety of his expensive slacks. _One Mew. Two Mew…_

"Excuse me."

Archie whirls around. Cyrus clears his throat. "I have a plan."

"Oh thank Kyogre tell us, kid!"

"It's a risky plan though. The implementation is still tentative—"

"Spit it out, Cyrus!"

"Fine!" The older men jump. Cyrus sighs. "I apologize. What I meant to say was for me to volunteer to be your eyes, Giovanni. You'll still drive, but I'll see where everything is." After Cyrus explains his plan, Archie exchanges a glance with his taller friend. Cyrus flushes and looks away. "I-I know that it's too much to ask for. You'll be sacrificing much of your autonomy to place trust in my words. Please disregard that. I'll keep thinking—"

Giovanni closes his eyes. "Okay. What's next, Cyrus?"

A silence. "You… you'd actually trust me?"

"Of course!" _Archie's smiling too loudly, damn it._ "Now what comes next, Cyrus?"

More silence. Comets stream across the skies. The twinkling laughter of stars drift in and out of earshot, the deep vacuum of space a vibrating lullaby to his brain.

"All right." _Kid's got his mojo back._ "Yes, thank you for your cooperation. Archie, would you mind being in charge of the Items?"

"'Course, Cyrus, buddy! Leave it to old Archie!"

"Thank you very much. Now, Giovanni, assume your normal driving position. Release the brakes—yes, I'm right here. Focus on my voice. We're currently driving down a straight road. I understand that this might be nerve-wracking, but you're almost there. Just a bit more..."

Archie can't believe his eyes. Giovanni's driving just as smoothly as he is with his sedan back at the mansion. Cyrus is giving directions like a vocalized map down to the T. He wills Giovanni to an Item Block, and Archie launches that Blue Shell with a holler.

"All right, Giovanni. We will be using the Golden Mushroom."

"Sounds good, kid."

"Ready, Cyrus?" says Archie. Cyrus nods.

 ** _BAAM!_ **Winds tug at Archie's beard. Cosmic winds of stardust and light. He lets the air fill his mouth.

"60° to the right, Giovanni. _Release it!_ Up head is a winding road, so don't jerk the wheel. Release the accelerator. Yes, you're doing fine. Now, gently ease it down…"

The 12th place cart gapes at the incoming group of men. "What the… Dia, is he driving with his eyes closed? And it's the Ice King again, eeep!"

"Pearl, I'm busy here! Bother Platinum or something!"

Archie jams the Mushroom, quickly overtaking the 12th place cart. "Giovanni," Cyrus says. "We are approaching a funnel. Keep your head down. You too, Archie."

They both do as asked. Archie even pulls Cyrus's head down too. The funnel sucks the cart in a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors.

"8th place scamps!"

"Really?" If only Giovanni can use the smile on his face. "We're not last?"

"You did it, Cyrus!"

"We all did it. Giovanni, deploy the hang-glider. We're about to get off a platform."

Giovanni's shoulders tense. Archie places a reassuring hand, and the former relaxes. Then the cart leaps off the ramp. Planets and stars twinkle below them. Archie laughs as they bounce off the rings of Saturn and take to the skies once more, soaring over the Milky Way like a Swellow in flight.

"How much further, Cyrus?"

"Almost to ground, Giovanni." _K-BUMP!_ "Ah. Now you're approaching a sharp turn."

A bolt of lightning hits the cart. Giovanni would've lost control again if Cyrus didn't raise his high-pitched voice to regain control of their situation.

"We're in 5th place, scamps!" Archie squeaks.

"Stellar work, Giovanni and Archie." Cyrus squints into the distance. "Right!" The cart swerves. "The team ahead of us is throwing Banana Peels without hesitation. It will be difficult to find an opening. Proceed with caution, Giovanni."

_Huh. Only one team would ever…_

"JUST THROW THE STUPID PEEL, MAXIE!"

"You might not think twice about littering, but I do, Ghetsis! That's the problem with our land nowadays! Pollution! Contrary to popular belief, banana peels don't magically decompose if you throw them around!"

"HOLY KYUREM IT'S JUST A RACE! AND THE COURSE IS ALREADY SLIPPERY! THROW THE STUPID PEEL!!"

"Ghetsis, look where you're driving! And Maxie, just toss the Item! We haven't gotten new Items because you wouldn't throw that away!"

"STOP SCREAMING IN MY FACE! Fine! There! Happy now?"

"Hi MaxieeeeeaaaAAAAGGGGHHH!"

Friction is lost when the wheels slide over the Banana Peel. Giovanni's eyes shoot open, but Archie's there to quickly plunge his world back into darkness.

"Holy Groudon, Archie! Archie, I am so sorry! I didn't know that you were behind us!"

"It's—WOAH!—okay!" Archie forces a smile as Giovanni and Cyrus struggle to keep the cart from sliding off the road. "N-Nice to see you, nerd!"

Lysandre's face erupts into light. "You're here! We're currently in 4th place! And… Giovanni, why are your eyes closed?"

"I don't tell you how to live _your_ life!" is the faint retort. "Ahem. I feel like changing it up a little, you know? Seeing rainbows all day and that."

Ghetsis coughs loudly. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hurry up. We're so close to the finish line that I can _smell_ it."

"Giovanni, Ghetsis is sticking his tongue out at you."

"Gee, thank you, Cyrus. I can see without opening my eyes."

"Myahahaha! Cyrus, why don't you drive instead of sitting all the way in the back?"

"Ghetsis, focus." _HIIIIISSS!_ "That Blue Shell almost clipped your hair if you hadn't ducked in time."

The carts round a whirling satellite. Maxie's unleashing Red Shells while his friend summons an army of Green. Lysandre's throwing Fireballs, and Cyrus is directing a blinded Giovanni down the slippery slope.

"Wee! We're in second place, y'all!" Archie's rocking the cart and Giovanni's stomach with his bouncing.

"Ghetsis pull back!"

"Huh? I like you and all Cyrus, but I ain't about to pull aside for—"

"NOW!"

Ghetsis slams on the brakes. _**BOOM!**_ A Blue Shell dives into the first place team, the explosion radius nanometers away from Ghetsis's front bumper.

"That's not fair!" a disgruntled Leaf growls. "Who the _fukh_ threw that _fukhng_ shell that _fucr!"_

"Leaf, language!" Blue hisses, swatting at his smoking hair. "Red, hurry up! The old man's passing us, and he's not even looking at the road!"

"Eat my dust, brats!" Giovanni cackles as he overtakes 1st place, followed by a sneering Ghetsis.

"By Zygarde, we might actually win." Lysandre ducks for an incoming Green Shell. "But we have to be careful. The 3rd place team is right at our coattails. And there's always the risk of getting hit by Blue Shells."

"We're doing fine!" Then Archie's waving to the heavens. "Matt! Shelly! We're gonna win!"

Maxie sees this and follows suit. "Tabitha, Courtney! Look, Archie and I are going to win!"

"You're doing great, Giovanni," Cyrus says. "We're heading into a ravine. There's a speed boost to your immediate right—" The cart suddenly lurches. Giovanni's gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn red.

"Cyrus! Cyrus, what happened? Archie!"

"Hey look, it's those nerds again! How many times do we have to teach you this lesson, old man?"

"Learn some respect!" Maxie hisses. "You may be students here, but I will not tolerate blatant disregard for—"

"Old man, that turtleneck's cutting off your brain cells!" The jocks slam into their cart. Ghetsis curses loudly, and even the normally composed Lysandre is glaring daggers.

"Hey, leave them alone!" Archie snaps. The jocks snicker amongst themselves—and dashes a Mushroom through Ghetsis's cart. The latter spins back down Rainbow Road and out of sight.

"Hey!" Giovanni snarls. "Tasteless misfits! Even my son is better-behaved than you!"

"It's a race, dude! Every team for themselves!" Their vehicle grinds against Giovanni's tires. It's all he can do to keep on the tracks. Archie's blowing his top, and Archie should never, ever be doing anything other than being his usual jovial self.

"Does it feel better with a lighter load?" One of them brings up a Golden Mushroom. Giovanni gasps, but before he can even blink, he's seeing bands of grey. Colorful grey. Sparkly, shooting comets. _Hey, there's the constellation of Mew—_

 _ **SMACK!**_ Then he's seeing the butt of the cane. The world plunges back into clarity. The walking celery— _no, Ghetsis_ —is jabbing his face with that damn cane.

"What the hell, Leaf-Head?!"

"He's awake." Lysandre's face peeks into sight. "Come, Giovanni. We need to teach those brats a lesson about proper etiquette."

"They're not my students." Maxie's eyes are glinting under his glasses. Like burning coal. "But I'll find their parents, and when I do, I will bury them (the students) with my own hand!"

Archie cracks his knuckles. "You've messed with the wrong professors, punks!"

Giovanni and Ghetsis jam the accelerator. They course through Speed Boosts, nab Items, slowly but surely eating up the competition to 2nd and 3rd place.

"Wait."

Ghetsis frowns. "What is it, old man?"

Giovanni glances back. "Archie? Where's Cyrus?"

The five professors crane their necks to the empty spot behind Archie, the seat with the seat belt that's flying haphazardly in the cosmic wind.

"Putain de bordel de merede we lost Cyrus!" Lysandre's mane is whipping around the air like an out-of-control fan.

"Those motherfu—"

"Giovanni, watch your fu—"

"Archie, watch your language!" Maxie shakes his head. "Those damn brats must've kicked him off the cart when they sped through us! I can't believe that they'd stoop this low!"

 _DAMN IT!_ Giovanni glances at the speedometer. He glances upwards, to the back of that damn cart that needs to experience a world of pain.

"What are you doing?" Lysandre exclaims when Giovanni yanks the cart around.

"Don't let them win, Lysandre!"

3rd. 4th.5th. 6th.

Archie's bellowing at the top of his lungs. "CYRUS!"

7th. 8th.9th.10th.

"P-Professor Giovanni? You're going the wrong way!"

11th. 12th. Barely dodged the duo from Kalos.

13th.

"Hey, wait up!"

 _What the—_ That Vegetable-Head pulls up to Giovanni's right. "G-Ghetsis? Why are you here? You were in 2nd place!"

"Bah, what good is winning if I'm not in the mood to win?" Ghetsis waves a dismissive hand. His cart jerks, but it's not a problem. "Money isn't everything, you know."

"Ghetsis…" Archie rubs his ears. "Maxie… Lysandre…"

Giovanni blinks. He mentally slaps himself. Does it twice. "F-Fine. B-But it's your loss. Sheesh." His colleagues grin. Giovanni forces his eyes on the road that they had passed not long ago. Over the rainbow hills… the sprawling caverns… the spinning satellite…

"CYRUS!" Giovanni's chest almost gives out. The kid is laying on Rainbow Road, his head gripped tightly over his head.

"CYRUS!"

"Fortunately, I was wearing a helmet," the younger man mutters. "The seatbelt should be strengthened. They must've focused more funding on aesthetics of the course than the safety procedures—"

He sits up. "Giovanni? What… why are you all here?"

"Holy Kyogre get in, Cyrus!" Archie grabs that hand, effortlessly reeling his colleague back into the seat.

"I don’t… But… But didn't you want to win? Why did you come back?"

"Shut up, brat!" There's something strange in Ghetsis's usually obnoxious tone. "We can't win if one of us is missing!"

"Make sure his seatbelt is tight, Archie!" Maxie cries. After a cursory glance over their teams, the drivers nod and floor back down Rainbow Road. The right way this time.

"Cyrus, why didn't you say anything!" Lysandre is hissing. "How long have you been up there? Did you honestly expect to walk back by yourself?"

Cyrus lowers his gaze. Giovanni clicks his teeth. "The important thing is that everyone's accounted for. It's no one's fault—just those damned brats whose heads are filled with nothing but inflated egos."

"Giovanni?"

"What? What is it, Cyrus?"

A pause. "You can drive on your own just fine."

"Huh? Of course I—"

_Oh._

Archie taps Giovanni's shoulder. "Hey, I guess what doesn't kill you only make you stronger, huh? Look at you go, Gio!"

Even Ghetsis's smirk is surprisingly soft, Giovanni notices. "Great, great and all that. You deserve a trophy when we get home. But now, we need to win back our place."

"I have an idea."

Everyone turns to Cyrus. The youngest man's eyes are burning with cold fire. "We'll take advantage of the course's declining slope. It's a risky plan, however. Do you still wish to proceed?"

"Let's do it." Lysandre tightens his helmet. The other professors nod. "Let's make this a beautiful victory."

Cyrus's brows furrow. Then he nods, the edges of his lips pressing upwards. With a jut of his chin, the two carts race into Item Blocks—and leaps off Rainbow Road. Giovanni and Ghetsis deploy their hang-gliders. Archie and Maxie deploy their Golden Mushroom to keep their carts afloat as they soar over the Milky Way. Cyrus holds out the Starman to Lysandre, who gladly accepts the joint mission.

Meanwhile, on the ground, Pearl happens to look up. And his eyes burst into moons. "Dia, look at that rainbow! No! Double rainbow!"

Serena leans forward. "That's not a rainbow. Wait. That hair… Professeur Lysandre?!"

"And that's Archie and Maxie!" Brendan exclaims. "They're flying in the sky!"

Leaf blinks. "Oh Articuno those old men are back again! Hah, I just knew that they'll never learn their lesson!"

"BWAHAHA!" Golden Mushrooms burst like pockets of lava. Archie and Maxie had taken it into a competition. The carts lurch across the galaxy, but Giovanni keeps his eyes wide open and his laughter deep and true.

5th. 4th. 3rd. 2nd.

"There they are," Ghetsis hisses. "Those pretentious brats. But by the time we hit ground, they'll still be in 1st place. I can see the finish line right there!"

"Do not worry. I will dispose of the filth with my little friend."

"Lysandre?" Said man glances at Cyrus. The latter reluctantly extends his hands. "May I?" Lysandre smiles, and he's more than happy to let Cyrus do the honors. As the cart glides down, Cyrus rises in his seat, his coat flaring in the stardust.

The checkered line is just within arm's reach. "Dude… do you hear a hissing sound?" The jocks look up to see the double rainbows amongst the skies.

Flurries whip past skin and clothes. Cyrus looms over the students, his glare potent enough to puncture _diamond._ Their hearts stop working when he raises his arm—

"I thought your parents taught you better than that."

\--and hurls the Blue Shell into their faces.

* * *

Ariana calls again. No response. She glances through the forest of spectators, pulling Silver along until she glimpses the puffy blue hair.

"Excuse me, Lenora, was it?" The woman grins in acknowledgement. "Yes, I'm Ariana, and have you seen my stupid husband?"

Lenora looks at her associates. "Ghetsis is also missing. Fool just got up and vanished."

"Courtney, stop hitting me! I don't know where Leader Maxie is, yeesh!" Tabitha looks to the blue team. "Shelly, Matt, have you seen your boss?"

"Probably with _your_ boss, if we knew where they went!" Shelly snaps.

N peeks out from behind an unamused Clay. "Dad's aristocrat friend isn't here either! He should be easy to spot in this crowd!"

"Cyrus is probably with them." Lenora rubs her chin. "By Zekrom I hope they're not doing anything stupid…"

Crystal purses her lips. Gold ducks his head. Silver puts a hand over his friends. "Hey, cheer up. My old man's pride just got wounded, is all. He'll come back though. He never learns his lesson."

Someone taps his shoulder. Silver turns to see an extended hand. "Hello," N says with his charming grin. "You are Silver, right? I see that both our dads are not here at the moment. Do you want to be my friend?"

Ariana hits a hand on her palm. "Gold. Crystal. Is there a place near here where losers go to cry themselves to sleep?"

"Um… yes?"

"Great. Lead the way."

* * *

Giovanni doesn't feel the first slap. It's only after the fifth backhand that his past is knocked back to the present that life returns to his eyes.

"Finally." Red hair fuzzes into vision. A pair of eyes, golden and bright. "It's too soon for you to kick the bucket, you old dog."

Giovanni rubs the numbing pain off his face. "Ariana? Silver?" He gropes for his nonexistent fedora and settles to hiding his face instead.

Ariana sighs. "Come on, Giovanni. You're embarrassing me. Suck it up and look at me."

Not far away, N is tugging at Ghetsis's green wisps of hair with Drayden and Clay as his disappointed audience. "Dad!" N says. "Dad, wake up! DAD!"

"I'm not deaf," is the hoarse reply.

Lenora comes to kick him in the shin before running off to the younger man huddled in the corner. "Cyrus." She gently pries his hands from his knees. "Kid, you all right? You're colder than Kyurem's Glaciate."

"Monsieur Fleur, this is not beautiful at all." Burgh tips his head, sighing. "Please present yourself as a work of art." Lysandre twitches. Another sigh. "And please don't cry. Everyone can hear you."

Shelly starts when Archie grasps her outstretched wrists. "Shelly…" He slowly raises his head. "Matt… we failed."

"You all came for nothing." Maxie shakes his head into his hands. "I'm sorry, Tabitha… Courtney… I've failed you."

Gold and Silver peek from behind Ariana's back. The woman rolls her eyes, uttering the loudest sigh yet. "Look. The Lightning came out of nowhere. You couldn't control the flight paths of those Red Shells. And no one could've predicted that people fly _forward_ from the impact of an explosion."

"They still won," Ghetsis says in a shaky voice. "Those stupid, ungrateful punks…"

N blinks. "What are you talking about, Dad?"

Lysandre raises his head. "They won, right?"

Clay huffs. "Punks got what they deserved. Yer actions changed the course of the race, ya know?"

"So don't look down on yourselves," Drayden adds. "You won, in a sense."

Cyrus slowly peeks up from his hair. Lenora smiles. "Those three kids won instead: that silent one and his two loud friends. Black and White came second. And those two fancy kids came in third." 

The professors are listening intently. "Madame Headmaster was watching too," Gold says. Giovanni's breath stops. "Those jerks have also been bullying the other participants, so it's also a matter of student affairs. She took care of them, so we have nothing to worry about!"

Crystal holds up a finger. "So technically… you're not last place."

"Stop moping around and grow a backbone." Ariana hauls Giovanni to his feet. Silver smirks and strikes his father in the stomach, earning a loud howl that can scare a grown Nidoking.

Then his son leans in. "Hey, old man."

"What?"

"Your friend's son is really, really weird." Father and son look past heads to see the gushing Pokemon lover pulling on his dad's hair. A silent exchange is passed, and everyone pretends that nothing was seen.

"D-Did you hear that, Maxie?" Archie gasps. "Maxie, we're not last!"

"We're not losers!" Their teams grin when the two bosses are once again at their former glory. Maxie adjusts his glasses. Archie pats his friend on the back.

_BEEP. BEEP._ Lysandre gingerly fishes out his Holo-Caster. Sycamore's face pops into his own face with a _"Stop crying, Fleur!"_ that sends the former scrambling to regain his arresting stature.

"They're back to normal." Gold flashes Crystal a grin. "You should follow us, Professors. The Rewards Ceremony is almost over, but everyone wants to see you."

"But we didn't win," Ghetsis grunts.

"There's more than one way to win, Professor." Crystal winks. N laughs, and Ghetsis scowls. "Come on. Let's present the victors."

* * *

Deafening applause greets the professors as they shuffle into the viewing room. There's much more people than last time—and it hasn't been an hour yet, but there's enough bodies in here to usher in the next Heat Death.

"It's them!"

"KYAA, Rainbow Rocket! They're so cute!"

"Call dibs on the babey!"

Confetti rains down their heads. The professors merely standing there, their jaws open, their eyes wide at the swooning crowd.

"Stay back!" Courtney swats the horde with her cardboard prints of her leader. "Get away from Maxie!" Fortunately, Gym Leaders are super effective in calming down shrieking crowds. N isn't much help, but Ariana and Shelly shoot down any rabid fangirls that dare to infiltrate the circle.

"Professor, can I take a picture with you?"

"Professor, I'm in your class! My name is…"

"Professor, may I get your autograph?"

"My signature?" Cyrus pulls his feather pen from the air, much to the student's shock. He squints at the blank sheet of paper. "Is this a petition? Or do you need my permission for something?"

"This is great, Leader Maxie!" Tabitha gushes. "Everyone loves you!"

"But we didn't win. I don't understand—"

"I don't either." The crowd parts for the winners. Red is carrying a golden trophy while Blue holds the check and Leaf's holding all the praise directed her way. "You should've won," she says with a wink. "You were really fun to watch."

"You made the race worthwhile," the 2nd place victors say. White nudges Black, who grins. "We actually tried because we didn't want six old men upstaging us."

"Felicitations, Professeurs!" Serena claps her hands. Calem lifts his cap. "You were so great! Like little friends! Calem and I kept looking behind us in case you caught up!"

Giovanni then realizes that his entire face is burning. He realizes that his colleagues' faces have taken various shades of scarlet. Crystal waves her hands. "The audience loved all of you! Why, we even had to pull in more screens just to show your side of the race!"

"And we got more funding!" Gold jumps for joy. "And check out our ratings! Why, Madame Headmaster was so impressed that she asked us if we're doing another event next year!" The professors, Giovanni especially, hold their breaths. But the students' mirth is so infectious that it's near impossible to maintain frowns.

Silver tugs on Giovanni's sleeve. The latter blinks. Ariana chuckles and taps his nose. He's about to roll his eyes when she pecks him on the forehead.

Tabitha and Courtney rush their boss. Shelly and Matt return Archie's Bewear hug.

Cyrus's pocket rumbles. He quietly excuses himself, and everyone's more than happy to see that rare emotion on his usually impassive face as he flips open the phone.

"Not in public, not in public!" Ghetsis's fuming is lost against N's big hug. Lenora rubs that Lettuce-head, and he just sighs. Clay, Drayden, and Burgh chuckle amongst themselves.

_"Don't cry, Fleur!"_ Sycamore snaps his fingers. Lysandre hisses at him to shut up. _"Here, let me play you a song on the world's smallest violin."_

_"Stop making fun of him, Augustine."_ Diantha's smirking wickedly. _"He's clearly sober, see? Lysandre, sake at the High Roller when you return. It's on the house."_

Gold and Crystal watch as the professors bask in applause with grins on their faces. The students give it a few minutes more before steeling the courage. Cyrus had finished talking on the phone when he notices the timid undergraduates. "Ah. Gold and Crystal." He clears his throat. "How can I be of service?"

A shared glance. Crystal flashes a thumbs-up. Gold inhales deeply and raises his head. "Professor Cyrus? We were wondering if you would be interested in something…"

* * *

Orange sunlight spills from the open windows. Pollen wafts into the room, Ghetsis sneezes, and silence once again returns to the mansion in the woods.

_Skritch. Skratch._ Persian sighs as her Trainer's hand rakes over her fur, getting real deep in the area behind the ears. _Tick. Tock. Tick._ Time marches peacefully forward in the background.

The door opens. The professors sit up. "Cyrus," Maxie chirps. "How'd it go?"

Cyrus tilts his head. He shuffles to an empty seat and sits, his back straight as ever, his hands resting on his laps. "I've accepted the position." A shy tug of the lips. "Thank you very much for the words of encouragement, everyone."

His colleagues return the smile. "Of course," Lysandre says. "I'm looking forward to what the Mechanics Club has in store for next year… _faculty adviser!"_

"Thank you… but there's much paperwork to be done before anything can happen." Cyrus sighs, messaging his temples. "That glitch is still worrisome. However, it's quite impressive what the two of them had accomplished for the race. The students at Rainbow Rocket University always exceed my expectations."

Ghetsis shrugs. "Eh. They're little misfits. Underestimate them, and they steal your cane and run around the classroom like they own it."

"Some of them are so sweet." Archie leans back against his seat. "I still can't believe Matt and Shelly came though. Everyone came, even Ariana and Silver. Man, it feels so weird to have actually seen them here! I keep forgetting that I'm not in Hoenn anymore!"

Giovanni nods as he continues scratching Persian's head. His gaze flicks to the mantle piece, to the new picture frame of that day, the day of confetti, of people, of colors and warm feelings. "We still have class tomorrow," he hums. "Time goes by fast, doesn't it?"

"I'll make sandwiches or something," Ghetsis grunts. "We got bagels. And cream cheese."

Persian yawns and leaps off her Trainer's laps. She pads into the kitchen, surveys the bag of bagels in question, and returns to confirm the meal when she hears the snoring. Upon closer inspection, the men had passed out in the sofa, their eyes closed, their chests heaving and falling with each deep, echoing breath.

The cat grins. She climbs back into Giovanni's laps, makes herself comfortable on his slacks, and closes her eyes. His snoring sings to her ears, and soon the mansion lapses into a rare moment of truly magical bliss.

* * *

Gold and Crystal had promised to swipe the professors into the critically-acclaimed dining halls for lunch and dinner. No one passes an opportunity for food at RRU. But when the professors arrive at the dining hall, it wasn't just the two students that wanted to eat with the six friends.

The fire marshal had to be called in. Never had he seen a room exceed 200% capacity.


	12. A Sweet Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five overprotective old men pry into their colleague's double life. 

The clock strikes ten when Giovanni reaches into his secret pouch in the sofa cushion. Everyone had gone to sleep, leaving the man of the house alone in sweet, sweet bliss.

_All good here._ Three secret spots in the sofa. A secret compartment in the fruit bowl. On the wall of the rightmost shelf. And the ground is undisturbed. _All good._

Giovanni finally looks up from his secret reserves to find a dangling blue head in the doorway. A good minute passes before Giovanni realizes that his colleague has his hands in the air.

"I… I have no intention of stealing your money…"

Giovanni slaps his forehead. He tosses the firearm aside so he can ram his head into the wall.

"Giovanni? You'll get a concussion."

_I know._

"I hope I'm not disturbing anyone." Cyrus fumbles for his briefcase, gently closing the door behind him. Giovanni awkwardly moves aside. The former makes a wide circle to the darkened hallway, leaving a fuming Giovanni to message the bump on his head.

* * *

The very next night, Giovanni happens to be counting his money when a pair of pale blue eyes bear straight to his soul. And of course, certainty comes first before doubt. _Damn it! It's the second time that I almost killed him!_

Cyrus keeps his head down as he shuffles into the moon-lit corridors. "Giovanni?"

"Y-Yeah?"

Cyrus gives him an odd look. "The bathroom is meant for one person."

"Oh." Giovanni takes a step back. Cyrus measures him evenly before closing the door. The sound of rushing water. Fluffing towels. Sink turning on, teeth brushing noises.

Then the fluffy bundle emerges in a cloud of steam and grey pajamas. "You can have the bathroom now."

"Oh."

Cyrus drops his gaze. "Well. Good night, Giovanni."

"Yeah. Good—" _Wait a damn minute!_ "Cyrus. Cyrus, have you looked at the time lately?"

Cyrus squints. "It is eleven in the evening."

"Yes! Aren't you normally home by seven?" _Holy Mew, he missed dinner!_ Giovanni blanches. _Holy damn no one noticed that he missed dinner!_

Cyrus frowns. "Is… Is that a problem, Giovanni?"

"What do you mean is that a—Do you _know_ what terrors lurk outside in the dead of night? What if something happens to you?"

"Giovanni, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I've _been_ taking care of myself, and I know that I'll be fine." Cyrus absently traces the lining of his sleeves. "Ah. Of course. Forgive me, Giovanni. I'll get to cleaning right now."

"C-Cleaning? What do you—" Something glints in the kitchen: the tower of dirty plates from Ghetsis's Po' Boys from earlier. Plates littered all about the counter top.

Cyrus rolls up his sleeves. "Who… who cooked, Giovanni?"

"Ghetsis," is the barely-audible reply.

"I see." Cyrus exhales through his mouth. "I… Do you mind telling everyone to fill their plates with water after they've finished? At least halfway? It… It's easier to scrub out grease that way."

"Oh." _Wait, didn't he tell me that yesterday? And the day before that… Last month…_ "Sure."

Cyrus gives him a tight smile. "Go to sleep, Giovanni. Everything will be tidied up by tomorrow."

* * *

After a delicious dinner of Maxie's okonomiyaki— _bless that man for making seconds—_ Giovanni taps his spoon against the champagne glass. When no one pays him any mind, he slams his fists.

"What?" Ghetsis drawls, jabbing his hefty fork onto his plate. "All this cheese won't eat itself!"

Lysandre makes a face at Ghetsis's oozing concoction. "Broccoli and cheese," Archie remarks. "You outdone yourself each time, ya old nerd."

"Hah! Do not underestimate the Great Maxie!"

Giovanni rolls his eyes. "Okay, 'The Great Maxie.' Do the dishes tonight."

Conversation dies as if Giovanni had uttered an ancient taboo. Lysandre peels his eyes from his wine. Ghetsis stops chewing. Archie's brows furrow.

"I'm sorry, what?" Maxie huffs.

"You heard me," Giovanni says. "Do the dishes."

"But it's Cyrus's turn."

"Yes, but—" Then realization hits him like a fallen meteorite to the skull. _It is Cyrus's Turn. It's always **been** Cyrus's turn, ever since we agreed to the roommate contract._

"Cyrus can do it." Ghetsis looks over to the empty chair. His eye widens. "Cyrus? Where'd you run off to, you little brat?"

Giovanni slams a palm to his face. "Archie, Cyrus isn't under the tablecloth."

"Then where in the world is he?" Lysandre gasps.

"He hasn't—"

"Cyrus!" Maxie runs to the kitchen and back. "Everyone! He's gone!"

"WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME?! Cyrus isn't home yet!"

Maxie blinks. "B-But, Giovanni. It's already dark outside. Cyrus _always_ returns home before dark!"

Ghetsis has an unpleasant look on his face. "Huh. I _thought_ the floors looked a bit dirtier than usual."

"Monsieur Ghetsis, don't be ridiculous. Someone obviously cleaned them yesterday."

"You're missing the point entirely!" Giovanni barks. "Well, it's true that Cyrus cleaned up, but that's _after_ he got home at around eleven! In the damn evening! What does—"

Archie holds up a hand. "Wait, Gio. How did you know that?"

"Because I was—" _Oh thank Mew. Dodged that bullet._ Giovanni glares at the harmless buff man. "D-Does it matter? The point is, you four need to step up and claim responsibility—"

" _Us four?"_ Ghetsis huffs. " _You're_ contributing as much trash as the rest of us! And don't think for a _second_ that you have special privileges just because you own a stupid luxury mansion!"

"E-Excuse me? _Special privilege?_ Why, I'll have you know that securing this plot of land was cutthroat competition—"

"We can split the chores," Maxie says, and the lights in the room grow brighter, showering him in radiance. "Archie and I can do the dishes. Lysandre can sweep. Ghetsis can mop, and Giovanni can take out the trash."

"W-Why am _I_ taking out the trash?"

"Aw, someone's scared of the dark, myahahaha!"

_"Be quiet,_ Lettuce-Head!"

"Giovanni," Lysandre says. "It's your property after all. It's perfectly safe."

Archie claps his hands before more protests can be made. "All right! Let's do this! We have to clean up before Cyrus gets home!"

* * *

Cyrus waits a few seconds before putting a timid foot into the doorway.

"Surprise!" Archie leaps out, sending the younger man scrambling for his briefcase. "Aw, what's wrong, pal? I'm not going to shoot you, bwahahaha!"

"A-Archie," Giovanni hisses. Then he clears his throat. "Welcome back, Cyrus. You kept us waiting."

Cyrus's brows furrow. "I'm sorry... But shouldn't you all be in bed right now?"

"We were waiting for you," Maxie says. "You missed dinner."

"Ah. I apologize, but I've already eaten."

_WHAT?!_ That sentiment resonates throughout the crowd. Then Ghetsis holds up a hand. "That's hilarious," he says. "There's leftover okonomiyaki in the microwave."

"I see. Thank you. I'll bring that as lunch tomorrow." Cyrus awkwardly slides past the roadblocks, and that's when Giovanni notices something… peculiar.

It's Lysandre who speaks first. "C-Cyrus. Did you… did you style your hair?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I did." Cyrus is rolling up his sleeves as he heads to the kitchen. His eyes narrow. "Was the floor always… No, I'll have to be more careful. Careless…"

The **_SKRRRT!_** of socks against wet floorboards stills Giovanni's heart for a second too long. Fortunately, there's the wall before Cyrus could crack his skull on the floor. Ghetsis turns away before the young man can rationalize the dilemma.

"Why is the floor _wet?"_

"Ghetsis," Giovanni blurts.

"Ghetsis… _mopped_ the floor?" Cyrus whispers.

"Y-Yeah," grumbles said man. "You're welcome."

Cyrus stares at the group for a good while before returning his attention to the sink, the dish rack in particular.

"Archie and I were in charge of dish washing," Maxie proclaims proudly. Archie puts his fists on his hips. Cyrus stares at them. He stares at the flooded counter top and the soapsuds on the plates.

"At first, we weren't sure which side of the sponge to use," Archie says. "So we cut it in half and _bam!_ Teamwork!"

Something seems to have stopped working in that complicated brain of his. "Lys… Lysandre?" Cyrus croaks. "What… did _you_ do…?"

"Oi, I swept the floor, mon ami! The broom wasn't working, so I taped the fibers together!"

"And _I_ took out the trash!" Giovanni declares with a puffed-out chest.

Cyrus opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again. "And… where _exactly_ did you put it? G-Giovanni?"

"Same way that I get rid of scum. Out of sight, out of mind!"

Cyrus's hands climb to his temples. "So… those bumps I saw…"

"Yes! All in a good day's work, mwhahahaha!"

"Congrats, Team Rainbow Rocket!" Archie passes out fist-bumps. Even the cranky Ghetsis plays along. "You're in good hands, Cyrus! Hey, we should do this more often!"

But Cyrus is slumped against the wall, staring down at his palms. Then he buries his shaking head into his sleeves. "I've made a horrible mistake," he whispers.

"What?"

Cyrus maintains shallow breathing for one… two seconds before finally lifting his eyes. "Everyone," he says flatly. "Go to bed."

"Excuse me?" Ghetsis huffs. "You're not the boss—" One frosty dagger to the heart, and he shuts up. There's a shared sense of impending doom among the five other men.

"B-But—"

"Giovanni. You have class tomorrow."

"Y-Yes, b-but so do you—"

_"Giovanni."_

And with that, the professors scramble back down the darkened hallways just as the clock strikes midnight.

* * *

Cyrus returns just in time to commandeer the sink for plates that he never touched. Then he's scrambling for the broom, the mop, hurrying out the door with black trash bags and returning to a sparkling, livable mansion.

His colleagues are sitting on the couch. Just taking up space. They watch as the little blue splotch zoom from corner to corner like an angry Combee.

"Cyrus?"

"Yes." Said man emerges from the bathroom in a crisp shirt, slacks, and a golden tie. His hair has been carefully set into a comb-over.

"Where are you going?" Ghetsis mumbles.

"I have business to attend to." Cyrus smooths his collar. Checks that his tie isn't crooked. "I'll be back to clean up."

"Um."

"I'll be going now." Cyrus gives each of them a small nod. "Don't stay up too late. Remember, eight hours is the ideal."

And with that, he's gone.

* * *

Archie is the first to break the silence. "So… why is _he_ in such a rush?"

"Maybe he needs a quiet place to grade papers," Maxie murmurs. "Didn't he just finish midterms?"

"He didn't bring his briefcase," Lysandre notes.

More silence. Ghetsis flicks a shiny green strand from his face. "Maybe he's in his rebellious phase."

Giovanni leaps to his feet. "His stuff is still here!" he proclaims upon returning from the room, and everyone exchanges a collective sigh of relief.

"This is _Cyrus_ we're talking about," Ghetsis mutters. "What could an eighteen-year-old kid be doing past curfew?"

Maxie frowns. "He's eighteen?"

"I thought he was twenty," Archie says.

"I thought he was fifteen." Everyone looks at Lysandre. "Teenagers in Kalos grow up quite fast, all right? Maybe it's the milk. Kids usually sound like adults around that age."

"Archie's right," Giovanni says. _Wait a minute. Isn't that… isn't that SILVER'S age?! Damn, am I really that ol—_ "Cyrus can take care of himself. He's a fully functioning young man."

"He's a stick." That lone argument from Ghetsis renders all supporting arguments from Giovanni's case invalid.

"What if someone jumps him?" Archie gasps.

"What if he accidently got himself involved in underhanded dealings?" Maxie wheezes.

"T-That's impossible!" _I would know!_

Lysandre crosses his arms. "Gentlemen, I think you are overthinking the situation. It's possible that Cyrus _does_ have matters to attend to. It's only… nine in the evening."

A brief silence as words settle in. Then Ghetsis acts first, lunging for the mansion phone. He slams in buttons, and he waits with bated breath alongside everyone else.

"Holy Kyogre someone got him--!"

_"Hello?"_

"CYRUS!" Ghetsis waves the others down. "Cyrus," he snaps. "Where are you?"

_"Outside."_ A crackle. _Damn static. "Did something break?"_

Giovanni shoves his way in. "Cyrus, come back right now!" _Maybe I should call Petrel. Set up a perimeter around—_

 _**Vroom!**_ A passing car, presumably a white van with tinted windows. **_RRRRRRRRRR!_** The razor-sharp blades of a (pursuit) helicopter.

_"I'm sorry, but would you mind repeating that, Giovanni? I couldn't hear you properly."_

"Cyrus, you brat! I said—"

_"Cyrus!"_

The men freeze. Giovanni slowly, painfully cranes his neck back. His colleagues shake their heads.

_"I apologize,"_ Cyrus says. His tone is… different somehow. Possibly due to the crackling line. _"I'll be back soon, Giovanni. Please remind everyone to sleep early."_

And with that, the line goes dead.

* * *

The sun is high in the sky when Giovanni happens to step outside his office to get some fresh air. Leaf greets him with a crooked smirk. He extends a hand, and she sheepishly returns his wallet.

"Yo, is that the old man?" Blue waves. The ever-silent Red just nods.

"Brats." Giovanni chuckles. "Don't you have class?"

"Not until four," Leaf sighs. "Honestly? People just sign up for the GE just to hear Maxie and Archie argue. Easy class. But it's so stressful taking sides."

Giovanni blinks. "Sides?"

Leaf turns her glinting eyes upwards. "Professor," she says in a sing-song voice. "Shipping Club might host another event soon, considering it's… _that_ week. You up to help us?"

"Sure." Giovanni smirks despite him having no idea what he just signed up for. Blue and Red exchange horrified glances.

"Great! Oh, and if you're looking for Cyrus, he's downstairs, talking to some lady."

_Oh?_ Giovanni cocks a brow. "Really now…"

Leaf shoots him a mysterious smile. With one last wink, she and the two dumbstruck boys disappear around the bend. Giovanni takes his hands out of his pockets. Puts them back in. Then his feet move, and he almost falls down the stairs.

"Ghetsis?!"

"SHHH!" he hisses. "Quiet! Behind me, now!"

"You're ridiculously vertically enhanced."

"Oh well, _suck it,_ old man!" But he lets Giovanni take the front.

"…great place you have here, Cyrus," says the disembodied voice from behind that damn column that's blocking everything except Cyrus.

"A colleague of mine owns this place," Cyrus replies with his hands clasped behind his back. Ghetsis mouths something. Yes, the two parents are thinking of the same thing. "He's an excellent businessman."

"He sounds like an old man with money to throw around."

Ghetsis wheezes. Giovanni elbows the man in the ribs. Cyrus's smile doesn't touch his eyes. "Would you like to see the rest of campus?"

"Don’t you have class though?"

"Yes, but… I've cancelled well in advance. Students won't generally come to class after a midterm."

"Who _is_ that?" That voice belongs to a curious Archie. And of course, Maxie's there as well.

"Shh!"

"Cyrus, are you feeling all right? That was the longest bathroom break ever! You didn't sneak out on me… did you??"

"No, of course not. My apologies. My… stomach was… not well…"

"Well, if it isn't my dear friends!" Lysandre booms. "Why are you all hid—"

The professors rush him just as Cyrus departs. But he isn't alone. There's a woman by his side, one who leaves trails of moonlight in her wake.

* * *

"I can't believe it," Maxie growls. "Who would've thought… that _Cyrus_ of all people…"

"But it's _Cyrus!"_ Giovanni uses his hands for emphasis. _No, I won't believe it! It's too soon! I won't let him make the same mistake!_

Lysandre leans forward with his chin on his hands. "Gentlemen." His voice is low. "What _do_ we really know about Cyrus?"

Ghetsis looks a bit taken back. "What are you talking about, Dandy? Cyrus is… he's small!"

"Yeah, Lysandre," Archie says. "Like, this small."

"Archie, no one's _that_ small." Maxie crosses his arms. "I know Cyrus. He's quiet."

"Frowns a lot," Giovanni adds.

"Really good at doing dishes," Lysandre says. "Sweeping, mopping, taking out the trash…"

The men suddenly can't look at each other. Silence lapses until the door clicks, and the small, quiet, frowning colleague peeks into the room.

Except… he's not frowning today. Cyrus enters with a slight bounce in his step—barely there, but noticeable due to intense gawking. Once again, his hair is combed and held in place.

"C-Cyrus?" Ghetsis grunts. "Is that yours?"

"Hmm? No, Ghetsis. This was given to me." Cyrus brings the white lilies closer to his nose, his shoulders rising with a gentle inhale. Maxie nudges Archie in the shin. "I'd like to display them in the living room. Giovanni, may I?"

Ghetsis elbows Giovanni in the hip. "S-Sure."

"Thank you." Cyrus returns from the kitchen with a thin vase of water. He sets the flowers on the table, admiring the display with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Is that… waltz?" Lysandre whispers.

Cyrus blinks. "I'm sorry? Ah." He covers his mouth. "Oh. N-No, that was… never mind."

"What was it?" Archie murmurs.

Cyrus looks to the side. "Jazz."

_He likes jazz!_ Giovanni clears his throat. "I-I also like jazz."

"Is that so?" Cyrus's eyes crinkle. "It's a wonderful genre, I think. At night, there would be public performances in Veil…" He looks down at his watch. "Ah. Please excuse me."

"W-Where are you going?" Archie grunts. "I'm making champon today…"

Cyrus freezes. Giovanni smacks the fish-fanatic in the back of the head. "Oh." The younger man turns around. "I… I wasn't aware. Erm…"

"You have plans, right?" Ghetsis waves him along. "Go on. There's a lot anyway."

Those little suns wane again, and Ghetsis stops speaking. "All right," Cyrus says. "Thank you. And please accept my deepest apologies, Archie. I never meant to be inconsiderate."

A few minutes later, and Cyrus emerges from the hallway like he's headed for a business-casual interview.

"Wait, Cyrus." Giovanni casually flexes his fingers. "Your tie is crooked."

"Don't tuck your shirt in your pants," Ghetsis mumbles. "Only nerds do that."

"Loosen up a few buttons," Lysandre says.

"Remember to smile!" shouts Archie.

"And make eye contact!" Maxie adds. "Remember, women love brains—"

Fortunately, the other professors had piled on the nerd before that last sentence can be heard. Cyrus nods, although he's quiet confused to what he's actually agreeing to. "All right. Thank you… I suppose." He bows again. "I'll see you soon."

The professors give it two good minutes before Archie rushes to the window.

"He just left."

Giovanni gets his keys. "Good. Let's go."

* * *

The moon is a pleasant crescent in the sky. Stars are brighter than these sustainable lamps that dot the palm tree-laden streets.

"How the hell is a damn bike so damn fast?" Giovanni grips the leather steering wheel. His foot is twitching.

"You should turn on the lights," says the aristocrat from somewhere in the back.

"And let him see us? No _wonder_ your plans always succeed!"

"Giovanni, you're too close," Archie mutters.

"This is an electric sedan. Practically indivisible."

"Giovanni," Maxie huffs. "Turn on the lights. It's against the law, plus you'll run someone over."

"What if I didn't?"

The Lettuce in the front seat shoots the driver a dirty glare. "Really?"

"Damn you. There. Happy?"

Cyrus moves to the sidewalk, but thank Mew he didn't look back. Giovanni's clean-energy, custom-made sedan continues soundlessly down the gravel, past the brightly-lit skyscrapers, past the district of expensive restaurants…

"Where the heck is he going?" Ghetsis squints. "All the five-star places are here!" Then he gasps. "Oh, he's going to the beach! That sappy Romeo's going to show her the stars!"

_For once, you're right!_ Giovanni can even envision that scene, but at the same time, a tinge of sorrow touches his heart. _Cyrus… can he handle rejection? What if he breaks down? I should get him a toy--_

Giovanni slams on the brakes just as Cyrus disappears behind the alleyway.

"What now?" Lysandre grunts.

Ghetsis kicks the door open, much to Giovanni's horror. "We pass through the walls—what else do you _think,_ you Pyroar-fanatic?!"

* * *

The road is crowded enough for Cyrus to walk his bike. He keeps his focus straight ahead. _If I recall correctly, the manju stand should be…_

"Cyrus!"

_Oh._ Cyrus picks up his pace. There, in front of the sweets stand, is—

"Cynthia." When she heard that the island climate was mostly dry and humid, she'd shed her fur coat for a light blouse and sandals.

"Cyrus!" She smiles, lifting up her sunglasses. "Wow…" Those amber eyes sweep him from the bottom-up. "Have you gotten… taller? Why are you still wearing a tie?"

"I apologize for being late." On his way here, he had the oddest feeling that he was being followed. "Come. You must be famished."

"Not really." Cynthia takes a seat anyway. "The island here has wonderful food, Cyrus. Have you tried the Beans? There's also this thing called the Big Malasada. Soooo creamy!"

"I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself." Cyrus presents the menu. "Alola is much warmer than Sinnoh, the food here being popular especially with children." He hasn't tried anything yet, but Archie and Maxie have nothing but raving reviews.

"Are you calling me a child?" she pouts. He frowns. "Just kidding. Ooh, look at the menu! What's good here, Cyrus?"

"I'm… not sure." He happened to overhear his students talking about this place. Apparently, the space outside his office is an ideal lunch spot to some. "Maybe the recommended items?"

"That's not a bad idea." When she's thinking, she bites the insides of her cheeks. "Excuse me! I'll take this one, please! Large!" The desert consists of colorful droplets of water… gelatin, perhaps? With fruit bits in them. They have a light, pleasant smell.

"Oh wow." Cynthia nips off the edge, the gelatin cleaving away cleanly and beautifully. "Wow, wow, wow. I feel like I'm actually eating raindrops. Deliciously sweet raindrops."

Cyrus hands her a napkin. "I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to visit, Cynthia. You must be very busy."

She finally looks up. "Um. Yeah. Cyrus, what are you talking about?" Another glob of jelly. "You invited me. Of course I'm coming. You get sick of challenging Trainers all day, anyway. Most of them don't get past Lucian, so usually I'm just sitting around staring at the sky."

"Ah. How are they?"

"Good. Oh, you _have_ to try this peach! Um. Everyone's doing pretty good back home. Lucian asked if you needed supplies. And Professor Rowan's typing up a new publication that he'll need you to peer review."

"Of course…"

Cynthia stops eating when the mood darkens. The people around them pay no mind, but when she sees Cyrus's posture, she knows that something is wrong.

"What about _him,_ Cynthia?"

She lifts her eyebrows. "He's fine, Cyrus." He glares at her. She puts up her hands. "I'm serious, Cyrus. Just yesterday they had a Zumba class… and he's quite the ladies' man, based on what they tell me."

But Cyrus is scowling. The lights are hurting his eyes. He wants to close them, but knows that it won't fix anything. He'll just be running away again. Escaping responsibility.

"Your grandpa understands," Cynthia says gently, a hand on his arm. He still flinches. "C-Cyrus. He says that it's much better than staying over _there."_ Her lips part in a timid smile. "'Cyrus is still a kid.' I visited him before I left. 'Tell him that I'm fishing and doing all the stuff that I normally do. Stop worrying about me!'"

Cyrus stares at her. "He says that you call him too much," she continues softly. "You should worry about teaching. You already got him the best care in the world, yeah? Stop worrying so much and actually get some sleep."

Cyrus buries his face into his hands. Cynthia shifts her gaze to the empty dish.

"Thank you." Faint, but audible just for her. Cyrus is covering his mouth, but she sees it.

"Arceus, Cyrus! Let the world see the sun!" She pries his fingers away with her Machamp-like strength. "Cyrus! Stop! Resisting! AH-HAH! Hahaha, you have _really_ straight teeth! You don't even eat much, huh!"

The gelatin arrives. After much coaxing, Cyrus finally picks up his toothpick. He cuts the raindrop in half, dicing it into fours... all while Cynthia looks on in disbelief.

"So," she says. "How have you been doing? Cyrus?"

"I'm fine—"

"No, Cyrus. You're a professor at the most prestigious university in the whole entire world. I bet you're doing more than 'I'm fine.'"

"I do not sound like that."

"'I do not sound like that.'" She even frowns to capture his default expression. Cyrus's frown deepens, and she loses.

"S-So. What are you teaching again?"

Cyrus sighs. "Physics." She waits. "Computer science." She coughs. "Statistics."

"Oh wow, only three subjects. How are classes?"

"It's fine. They finished midterms."

Cynthia exhales loudly. "Holy Arceus." Cyrus keeps his attention on the sculpted gelatin, now in the shape of a small, detailed key. She tries a third time. "I hear that you're living with five other people, Cyrus. Isn't it uncomfortable, living with a lot of people?"

"Oh no. It's not that bad, Cynthia. We've agreed on fifteen minutes max in the bathroom when showers are not being taken. They're very respectful and accommodating. I was very fortunate to have been accepted into the housing program."

Cynthia's grin is crooked. "Really? How are they like, Cyrus? From the way you've been describing them to me, they sound like a bunch of old men."

Cyrus almost swallows his toothpick. She laughs, smacking his back. "Just kidding. So. Do you sleep on the couch?"

"They…" He can't feel his arms. "They gave me a room."

"Phew. Thank Arceus. Who cooks, Cyrus? Not you, right?"

Cynthia is still speaking. "Hey. I bet they stuck you on cleaning duty, right? Washing dishes, taking out the trash, fixing the toilet when it's clogged—"

"I had to unclog the pipes." Cynthia clamps her jaw. Cyrus lifts his head from his palms. "Who puts grease down the drain? And how does one dig around in the dark?"

"What…?"

"I had to purchase a new broom, Cynthia. How does one _break_ a broom? And I had to drain the floorboards." Cyrus slumps back to his seat. "Fortunately, the coffee-maker wasn't broken, and I managed to get grading done. I have to return midterms so they can ask questions."

Cynthia looks down at the empty second dish. She's about to order a third one when Cyrus stands.

"Excuse me," he says. "I'll be right back."

"Hehe. Bathroom break?"

"You can say that. I won't leave you with the bill, I assure you." Cyrus crosses over to the table in the corner. He waits. Clears his throat.

"Your newspaper is upside down."

* * *

_DAMN IT!_

The five men slowly lower the newspaper. Cyrus is staring at them dead in the eye, not a frown nor smile in that smooth, stony surface.

"I _told_ you that it wouldn't work!" Giovanni hisses to his rival.

"Well, at least we wouldn't look like the mafia with _your_ plan!"

Cyrus's fingers are drumming up his arm. The professors look at each other, hoping that someone will say something. Anything.

"Oh!"

That voice belongs to the young woman with flowing golden hair. Cyrus gasps, but she clamps on his shoulder, stilling him in place. "Cyrus, these are your roommates, right?"

Cyrus's mouth is opening, but nothing's coming out.

"I'm Cynthia," she says, a radiant smile on her unblemished face. "And you must be Giovanni. Ghetsis. Maxie and Archie. And Lysandre."

"She got our names right!" Archie whispers excitedly.

"Of course! Cyrus is really descriptive!" _Really?_ "No, not on your physical appearances. I can tell who you are based on your personalities."

Giovanni wrings his hands. His mouth is dry. "W-What did he say about me?"

"Cynthia…"

"You're very stubborn. Crude. You act before you think. But your heart's in the right place, and you're trying your best."

"Cynthia!" Cyrus drags her back, but she ends up hauling him instead.

"W-What about me?" Ghetsis says.

"CYNTHIA!"

"Aw." Cynthia laughs. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Cyrus. See, they like it! They're smiling!"

Like an idiot, Giovanni turns away. _Oh Mew,_ that's _what he thinks of me? That's so…_

"Silence!"

"No."

"C-C-Cynthia!"

Maxie clears his throat. "Er. Cynthia? Are you Cyrus's—"

"Yes."

"S-She is the Champion of Sinnoh," Cyrus huffs behind the cracks of his fingers. "The Cosmic Energy Development Corporation, or Galactic Energy as we're more commonly known, is a proud partner with the Sinnoh League—"

Cynthia punches his shoulder. "I knew him since we were children. We used to play together on the beach, every summer. Stuff happened, we kept in touch, and voila! Here we are now!"

A sigh of relief breaks through the café.

"They're just friends!" Lysandre says.

"Like us!" Archie nudges a smirking Maxie.

"Oh no," Cyrus mutters. "This is a professional business—" She steps on his foot, and he goes silent.

"Come join us!" Cynthia chirps, and that's when the booze arrives. Everything changes when the booze arrives.

"So you're the Champion of Sinnoh, Cynthia?" Lysandre grins as they click shot cups. "Do you know Diantha?"

"Yes! Every weekend, I'd go to Kalos and do a little shopping! She has amazing fashion sense!" Then Cynthia turns to the rest of the professors. "Steven sometimes invites me to his villa. He, um, has quite an impressive rock collection."

"Rocks are good." Maxie sticks his glasses on his hair, giggling. "I want some of his rocks for _my_ collection…"

"Steven's all right." Archie rips into a chewy manju. "His dad invites us to drink sometimes."

"Lance is… an interesting guy," Cynthia continues. Giovanni huffs. _Interesting is certainly one way of putting it._ "He, um… yeah.

"Alder is great! He has such interesting stories to tell! Plus, he knows all the nature trails, so we'd often go hiking when the weather's good!"

"Tree-hugging hippie," Ghetsis grunts. "Does he even bathe…?"

Cyrus looks up from his hands. "Cynthia, you have gelatin on your cheek. I know that you've been enjoying yourself, but I hope that you're not neglecting your duties." Cynthia stops laughing, and he frowns. "Remember, the Champion has a great responsibility to—"

"Oh, lighten up." A strange urge overcomes him, and Giovanni reaches over to muss that carefully-combed hair, messing it up until it's soft as Mareep Wool. "Turn that frown upside down! Smile, dammit!"

"He really has no tolerance for alcohol." Ghetsis gives Giovanni's cup to a beaming Archie. Maxie is already on the table, passed out. Lysandre's face is as red as his hair.

Cynthia downs her cup. "So you're the baby of the group, huh?"

"Excuse me? I am twe—"

"He's actually younger than me." The professors do a double-take at that statement. Even Maxie jolts up from his stupor. Cynthia shoots a sloppy smile at her somber friend.

"What does age have to do with—"

"Did you know?" The professors shake their heads. Cynthia giggles. "I wasn't feeling well one day, and he actually went _aaaalll_ the way to the League just to drop off some heating pads and chocolate! He even made soup, but it still tasted like canned stuff!"

It's the warmest feeling in the world. Giovanni beams, and Cyrus immediately scoots back.

"How's Cyrus at home?" Archie hums.

"I don't know. I don't live with him." Cyrus yanks the sake bottle from her grip. She wrenches it back, almost breaking his wrist. "But doesn't he just have the BIGGEST ears? Look, they're all red! How cute!"

"You are all drunk." Cyrus swats at Giovanni's hands. "Please—"

"It's a _beautiful_ night, Citrus." Lysandre clumsily pours the sake on the dish. Then he's clapping. _"Ami Citrus,_ _léve ton verre_ _! Et surout ne le renverse pas! Du frontibus—_

"LAND HO!"

"No, Archie, that's Maxie--!"

_"Au fessibus! Au pissarium! Et glou et glou et glou et glouetglouEtGLoU—"_

_"Bevilo tutto, bevilo tutto! L'aqua fa male! Il vino fa cantare!"_

"Cynthia, be careful—!"

"HAHAAHAHAHA!" Cynthia's pounding her fists against the table. Ghetsis has his phone out. Cyrus manages to save the plates with his quick, sober thinking.

"You have class tomorrow!" Cyrus snaps. "Stop it! Giovanni, stop! L-Lysandre! Lysandre, keep your shirt on--!"

"COME HERE, YA SCALLYWAGS!" Archie hoists an unconscious Maxie to his shoulder. "LAND HO IN A CLAP OF THUNDER!"

"Walk the plank, walk the plank!" Cynthia screams.

Cyrus feels a presence on his right. He gives the manager a deep, hasty bow. "I-I apologize. We'll leave."

"Here." Ghetsis shoves that plastic card out before Cyrus can reach into his pocket. The Lettuce-man huffs. "What? _You're_ the one driving these idiots home. Sheesh!"

* * *

Moving the bigger men required more effort on both parts, but after an hour, the drunkards were escorted safety back to the sedan.

"Don't pass out on me." Ghetsis throws a Fresh Water to Cyrus's arms. "I want to live, thank you."

"Of… of course." Cyrus staggers to the driver's sheet. _Oh. The wheel is on the other side._ The dashboard is a control panel of blinking lights. He cranks the seat up. "Ghetsis, can you see that everyone is wearing their seat belts?"

Giovanni wraps his beefy arms around Ghetsis's shoulder, to which the latter violently shoves back. "KISS MAXIE OR SOMETHING!"

"I'll compensate you back at home." Cyrus does a brief safety sweep before starting the engine. The sedan pulls out of the alleyway, back to the moonlit main road. "I'll drop Cynthia at her hotel first, since it's closer."

"I wanna be a pirate!" The woman thrusts a fist to his shoulder. For a brief, horrifying moment, he sees stars.

"Cynthia, sit down!"

"Hehe… is this your spaceship, Cyrus? Woooooo! Vrroooom! Hey look, it's Saturn!"

Giovanni does a heaving sound. "THIS IS YOUR CAR!" Ghetsis screams, and Cyrus cringes. "DON'T YOU DARE—NONONONONO! STAY AWAY STAY AWAY!"

"Augustine, I will end the WORLD in an instant so that BEAUTY never fades!"

"Pour… pour it all in! MORE! EXPAND THE LAND!"

Cyrus cranks up the air conditioner. And then it's quiet again. Snoring. _Peace and quiet._

"You didn't drink?" Cyrus glances in the rearview mirror. "Ghetsis?"

"Nah. Someone's gotta play the responsible adult." Ghetsis crosses his arms. He seems like he's about to add something, but decides against it.

Then Cynthia stirs. "Thank… Thank you…" Cyrus raises a brow. _Who is she talking to?_ "Thanks for… being there… he never had… I'm so…"

With one hand on the wheel, Cyrus gently nudges her elbow. "Cynthia, you'll wake up with a stiff neck—"

"He'll be so proud of you… Cyzzzzzzzzzz…"

Ghetsis can't see Cyrus's face. Only his ears are visible, and it's difficult to tell what color they are under the sparkling night sky.

* * *

Giovanni wakes up feeling like a battered, bruised sack of meat. _The tables finally turned, eh?_ His eyes are burning— _oh. That's just sunlight. Why the hell is it so damn bright?!_ Groaning, he rolls over to the side—and falls to the floor.

_Oh, look at the pretty Nidoqueen…_

Ghetsis looks up from his newspaper when his rival staggers into the living room. "Wow." He performs an exaggerated sigh. "Hold up, I think we have some IV's in the garage."

"Shut up." Giovanni slumps down to the sofa. Lysandre moans when the earthquake hits his core. Archie emerges from the bathroom, his hands on his stomach. Maxie throws himself on the sofa, landing on Giovanni's laps instead. The latter is too exhausted to protest.

_Four in the afternoon._ Giovanni sighs. "Damn. There goes my weekend."

Ghetsis pops a Magikarp-shaped cracker into his mouth. "It's Wednesday."

Giovanni's head snaps up. Lysandre blanches. Archie puts down his brown paper bag. "IT'S WHAT?!" Maxie screeches.

"My classes!" Lysandre falls off the sofa. "I-I have office hours today!"

"They're supposed to take their midterms today!" Giovanni leaps to his feet, accidently stepping on Maxie's thigh. "OW! Why are you bones so pointy?!"

"They need their midterms!" Archie roars. "Maxie, the midterms! Email the students—"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Giovanni clicks his teeth. "Excuse me? Do you have any idea how important midterms are—"

"Holy Zekrom, stop yelling." Ghetsis casually pops another cracker. "We took care of it."

Lysandre blinks. The Lettuce sets down the newspaper. "It was all that brat's idea. He tricked me into proctoring your exams. It's finished. Midterms are done." The professors gape at each other. "You can pay me back anytime. I accept cash and all major credit cards."

Maxie rubs his eyes and ears. "What? Wait, what?"

"Really, Maxwell? You still hung over?" Ghetsis leans back with his socks on the table. "I'm not repeating myself. Ask Cyrus when he gets back."

"Back…?"

Just then, the door opens, and in walks the solemn, sober young man. His hair is still combed. There's something in his arms.

"Ah, hello." Those blue eyes crinkle. "Did you drink water yet? And remember to eat… Ah. Ghetsis was considerate enough to aid me in proctoring your exams. He put all the tests in your rooms."

Ghetsis snorts, but his nose is slightly pink.

"You had class, Cyrus?" Giovanni grunts.

"Yes, but I just finished accompanying Cynthia to the airport." _Cynthia? Oh. His… his friend from yesterday._ "I keep telling her, but she never listens to me… Doesn't she understand that we're not children anymore…?"

"What?"

"Nothing." Cyrus coughs into his sleeve. "Ah, and she gave me this before she left. I'm not a big fan of sweets, so I thought that we could share." He unties the pink ribbon from the heart-shaped box. Rows of glimmering, fragrant, decadent chocolates. _Truffles._ Archie wipes his lips.

"Hey, Cyrus," Ghetsis says. "Is it done?"

"Yes, the conversion should be done." When Cyrus returns from his room, there's a blank disc and marker in his hands.

"Goodie." Giovanni leans over. _Home… Movie…?_ "Blame N," Ghetsis huffs to his rival's staring. "A-Anyway. This is gold. You won't be disappointed, myahaha…"

The professors gather to the sofa, waiting anxiously as the millenial performs magic on the equipment (he just reconnected the red, white, and yellow cables). The television flickers to life.

"Oh, it's from last night." Maxie puts on his glasses. "Oh, look. CynthiaaaAAAHHH!"

"No, no, this is the best part!" The towering tree keeps the remote out of the nerd's hands. "LOOK! MYAHAHAHAHA! LOOOOK!"

"NOOOOOOOOOO! I AM THE GREAT MAXIE! I'M NOT—NOOOOOOO!!!"

"Why am I taking off my shirt?" Lysandre mutters. "Why am I tossing it around like a discus?"

"Holy Kyogre. What am I doing to the manju…?"

Giovanni gapes as his past self tugged playfully on Cyrus's giant ears. The former immediately looks away, suddenly thankful for the big green roadblock.

"MYAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ghetsis is grabbing at his stomach, the breaths escaping as ragged gasps. "POUR THE ROCKET FUEL! I—OW OW! FOUR-EYES IS BITING ME!"

"Holy Yveltal I'm actually singing that song." The redness drains from Lysandre's beard. "I'm actually singing Diantha's stupid song…"

Archie awkwardly clears his throat. "Did I… Did I actually lead a conga line? Holy Kyogre I actually _did_ lead a conga line…"

Ghetsis is cackling like a megalomaniac, running around the room with a flustered Maxie at his heels. _He who holds power…_

_"You can be my long-lost son!"_

_AAAaahaHHHHHhhhhH!!!_ Giovanni wants to melt into the floor. As his past self gushed on and on, showering the obviously uncomfortable Cyrus in lavish praises, Giovanni patiently waits for the ground to open at his feet so the flames of perdition can finally claim him.

Then he hears it. That sound. A sparkle of sunshine draws his eyes to the light. Ghetsis stops laughing. Maxie stops screaming. Archie and Lysandre whip their heads to the source of the rare, wonderful sound.

"Cyrus…?" His shoulders are trembling. _Is he choking? No, he's…_ The kid is quivering for a different matter entirely. Those eyes are shining crescents, the mouth uncovered, revealing the shy appearance of blinding teeth.

"Heheh." Soft and gentle, unlike the raging waters of Tohjo Falls. A hint of mischief, a hint of playfulness. As if he's tugging at Giovanni's sleeve to showcase the Perfect Attendance award. Like a twinkling Heal Bell, a song of purity that drives away any and all the bad things in this horrible world.

_Cyrus is laughing! He can actually laugh!_

The professors grin at each other. As the movie plays on, Cyrus keeps making that little sound, and although he eventually covers his mouth, everything is painted on his face. Sunlight trickles into Giovanni's cold, dead heart. And with a warm smile, the older man claims a spot on that fluffy blue head.

It's only Wednesday, but it already feels like the weekend.


	13. A Professor's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days are just like every other day, except when something new happens.

"Old man!"

Giovanni jumps. "What the—can't you see that the door was closed?!"

The student makes a face. "Actually, Professor… Your door was just a _smudge_ open. It wasn't _locked_ locked."

Giovanni lifts a brow. Then he sighs. "Fine. Just don't steal anything, Leaf."

"Hehe." _That's not reassuring at all._ Nevertheless, the professor returns to his work as Leaf takes a seat on the plush sofa. She glances around the decorated office, gaze lingering on the shinier objects.

"Don't you have _other_ office hours to barge into?" Giovanni grunts.

"Not really. I don't feel like I'm making connections with my other professors."

Giovanni stops writing. "You don't have to go alone, you know. Take that annoying one and the quiet one with you."

"Our schedules conflict," Leaf pouts.

"Oh." An email pops up in the corner of his screen, and Giovanni promptly closes his laptop. _Leaf stops by quite often, even outside of office hours._ He feels rather flattered, but she doesn't need to know that.

A comfortable silence passes. Leaf is going through the Italian sweets in the glass jar. She picks a hard candy, the one filled with hazelnut cream and almond.

"What's your major again?" Giovanni says. "Leaf?"

"Environmental science." She raids the mini-fridge for some Italian soda. "But I don't like my professors. They make a fun topic _not_ so fun anymore."

"Oh. Have you talked to the undergraduate advising office?"

"Yes, but they don't care." Leaf guzzles the soda down in one sitting. Giovanni politely returns to staring at the picture on his desk.

"Telling me about it won't change anything, you know?" Leaf looks at him. He raises a brow. "You should make an effort of talking to the other professors. They were hired for a reason. Our screening process involves a rigorous eight-step—"

"But you're the only one who listens."

The bell chimes. Leaf's lips flap with a loud exhale. "Damn it all. I hate math class. Just call it 'Remedial Math' instead of 'Calculus for Life Science…'"

Giovanni calls her before she departs. "If you want, Leaf, I know someone who can tutor you. He's a good colleague of mine here in the university."

A slow grin spreads on Leaf's face. Her eyes crinkle with a soft laugh. "Oh, thanks, ol—Professor Giovanni. I'll think about it. Thank you!"

And with that, Leaf leaves. Giovanni sits there for just five seconds more. The sun is out today. Students are milling around in the courtyard below. He stands, casts one last sweep around his office, and locks the door behind him.

* * *

Giovanni drops by the faculty lounge because a man can only go without company for so long. He hovers around the coffee machine in an attempt to avoid being seen as too desperate.

"Oooh, do you know any love poems, Mister Lysandre?"

"Alas, I do, Mademoiselle. In fact, would you mind testing this delicacy before I begin? It is _la nouvelle recette._ "

"Oh! Lysandre, this is delicious! It's perfect!"

Lysandre's eye twitches. "That's… that's great. Thanks—"

"Yes, it is perfect, Lysandre! I've never eaten such _superb_ chocolates! You are so _good_ at this!"

"Thank you." Lysandre's smile is thin. Then he catches Giovanni's eyes. "Oh, excuse me, ladies, I have… er. I have an important meeting with my colleague."

Their faces fall, and Giovanni sees that. His lips twist, and that nosy faculty scramble out of sight. And Lysandre utters a sigh of utmost relief. "Not interested?" Giovanni grunts.

"Hm? Oh no. Non. It's just…" He strokes his beard. Fidgets with it.

"You're in this department? Lysandre?"

"Hm. Well, of course I am. I'm a businessman and entrepreneur, after all." Lysandre presents a dainty white pouch. "Giovanni, would you mind testing these chocolates?"

_That's a lot of sweets. He must've been stress baking again. That would explain the dishes yesterday._ Giovanni tries a lovely red flower.

"Well?" Lysandre wheezes.

"It is very sweet."

The aristocrat scoffs. "Well. It… _is_ chocolate, after all."

Giovanni uses his tongue to dislodge the sticky coating from his alveolar. "Is this the Belgium style?"

"It's a blend."

"Have you considered spicy chocolate? Cioccolato speziato?"

Lysandre opens his mouth. Closes it. Then he scoffs, causing Giovanni to smirk in response. "That would be… an interesting epicurean adventure," muses the Pyroar-man with a glint in his sharp blue eyes. "The insanely popular potstickers was born from a mistake, after all…"

Giovanni huffs under his breath. He scans the counter and pulls out the half-and half. "You don't have class, Lysandre?"

"Chocolat épicé? I wonder if Augustine... Oh. Er." Lysandre blanks for a second. "Class? Oh no, not until the afternoon. And you?"

"I'm free all day."

"Ah." A glance around the empty lounge. "Would you fancy a walk with me? I can use a minute to stretch my legs."

"Sure." The **_#2 Dad_** cup in hand, Giovanni joins Lysandre out to the main campus of Rainbow Rocket University.

The sunlight is harsh. It's pouring heat waves down here. The lawns sparkle like clean-cut gems.

A flyer is shoved in his face. "Would you like to save the Combee?" Upon realizing that the student had shoved the flyer in front of _Professor Giovanni's_ face, she squeaks and flees.

"You should stop scowling," Lysandre chuckles.

"And you're Mister Handsome," is the weary reply. The professors finally leave the dreaded walkway known as Persian's Walk. _Note to self: Take the bike route next time._

"They're taking photos of you," Giovanni murmurs, stepping behind his stupidly tall colleague. And to his disbelief, Lysandre is _sucking_ all that attention up, striking the Casanova pose and making his fangirls (and fanboys) scream in delight.

"A new ship?" Giovanni hears a student whisper.

_"Listen up, old man_." Leaf's words flash across his mind for no apparent reason. _"RRU's divided into two parts. There's the campus for STEM majors and the campus for Humanities majors. Economics and Psychology students have the worst identity crisis. There's some kind of rivalry going on, so pick your side carefully!"_

Lysandre stops, and Giovanni snaps from his reverie. "Well well," the former says. "What's going on here?"

_Over there._ Giovanni hears them before he sees them. A glance is exchanged, and the two professors hurry to prevent a potential calamity from occurring.

"Archie, you mixed up the Orbs _again!"_

"Oops. I could've _sworn_ that it was the Blue Orb!"

"Yo," Giovanni says in a half-spirited attempt to remain cool and relevant.

"Oh, hello, Giovanni," Maxie replies. "And Lysandre. I don't see you two around a lot."

"You two are inseparable," Lysandre mumbles. He smooths his cravat. "So what are you doing?" He gestures to the trenches on the ground. The shovels. The strange-looking machine with the green balloon. "Heheh. Are you trying to harness the power of weather?"

"Wow, you sure are smart!" Archie puts his fists on his hips. "This is a weather machine that yours truly has built! See, it's got a Sharpedo sticker right here! And Maxie's Camerupt is on the other side."

Giovanni blinks. He looks at the two best friends, and he blinks again. "I'm sorry, _what?_ You're trying to _what?"_

"There are strange stones all over Alola," Maxie explains, holding up his Red Orb. "Archie and I want to see if weather can be manipulated. If that's the case, then imagine the relief we can bring to other Regions!"

Giovanni still isn't buying it. "Worst case scenario, you two will upset the balance of nature. Archie, you'll cause coastal flooding. Maxie, you'll bring about an eternal drought." He shoves his fists into his pockets. "Then the sky will fall down…"

The two friends gape at him. They stare at each other, at their contraption that they've labored for so long to complete. A swift wind snags the green balloon into the distant stratosphere.

_It's so bright outside. I'm thirsty. I can use some club soda. Or maybe a chardonnay cocktail with cranberry juice._

Lysandre shatters the awkward silence by bringing out his dainty pouch. "S-So. Archie, Maxie, would you mind testing these chocolats?"

"Huh?" Archie picks up his eyeballs from the ground. He scratches his head. "Sure."

"Sure," Maxie mutters.

Archie puts the whole thing in his mouth. His eyes brighten. "Ooh! Is that Honey in here? I think you can cut out some sugar, Lysandre. It's already sweet as is."

"Have you tried coconut cookies?" Maxie covers his mouth as he nibbles on the luscious pudding filling. "You should put coconut into your sweets. Oh! Or maybe put coconut milk as filling!" 

Lysandre coughs politely. "Maxie. Coconuts in chocolates? That's absurd."

"What are you _talking_ about? Coconut is the best—"

"Hello!"

The professors turn. Archie's and Maxie's faces break into grins.

"Heya, scamps!"

"May, Brendan. You're quite early."

May shrugs. She eyes the forgotten weather machine before shifting her gaze to the odd little group. Giovanni doesn't notice her at first. He's too busy thinking about what he'll do when he gets back.

 _I should mix up a nice Pi_ _ña Colada. With creamy coconut milk. Do we still have Maraschino at home? Maxie fried rice yesterday, so we're probably out of pineapple…_

"I can't wait for class!" May hums. "It's been a while since the two classes met up. _My_ side's gonna win again!"

Maxie raises an eyebrow. "Sides?"

"Yes!" is the ecstatic reply. "Hardenshipping for the win!"

"Harden _what?"_

Brendan waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it, Professor Archie. Anyhow, do you two need help setting up?"

"No." Maxie smiles. "Change of lesson plans, but we're still doing a collaborative demo. Thank you for offering, though. You two wait in the shade."

Lysandre glances at his watch. "Oh. I'll have to go now. Er… good luck with the demo, I suppose. Try not to destroy the world."

"Thanks, Lysandre! We won't!"

Giovanni gives the two students a weak wave. But before the two men can proceed to their destination, some whispering catches his ears. Two students are hiding behind a forked tree, presumably spying on Archie and Maxie as they scramble to come up with a new lesson plan.

"Hey, isn't that May and…" _Oh. No, it's not. What the—_

"They must be twins," Lysandre mumbles, eyes narrowed. "The university has a lot of twins, I've noticed… but my students tell me it's just a coincidence. There's a young woman in my class named Yvonne who looks _exactly_ like Serena… but if you hear them talk, they're two _completely_ different people!"

 _Holy Mew. S-So is THAT why I've been seeing two Blues around campus? Are they both Oak's grandsons?! I_ thought _it was weird when Red finally talked, but that kid with his stupid Pikachu is another person?! The… Ketchup boy or something._

_I really need a drink…_

"I still don't believe it, Ruby. That ain't them. Their personalities' all screwed up."

"Hmhm." That boy besides the May-lookalike is sweeping his ruby-colored eyes down her form. "Ooh. Sapphire, your—"

"Like, why is Archie so… _nice?_ And Maxie… he's just a nerd now! Ruby, remember how _scary_ he was back then? He never wore glasses! What the he—"

"Sapphire, your fly is down! How _egregious_ of you! And your strap is—Ho! Those are the same socks from last week! Ack, and split ends! Have you taken a bath—"

The two professors hurry away from the courtyard. Across the sculpture gardens they go, across the path of towering oak, down the gardens of paper flowers and water fountains…

"You think they'd give you a stupid classroom near the School of Business," Lysandre is grumbling. "But _nooo._ It's _aaaaall_ the way in the Humanities side of campus…"

* * *

There are already students in the lecture hall. They perk up at the tall aristocrat but sit down at Giovanni's glare. Lysandre tells his colleague to make himself comfortable as he sets up the projector.

"Qui est-ce?"

"Isn't that Professeur Giovanni? Is it true that he's involved with Le Millieu?"

Giovanni is a man of many talents. Pretending to be deaf is not one of them. But being fluent in the Romance and Germanic languages is, as he was expected to learn them from an early age. And it certainly is useful in his line of work.

"Lysandre?"

"Hmm?"

"Quelle classe est-ce?"

"Economics 105." Lysandre connects the USB port to his laptop. Giovanni leans back into the chair. It's quiet now. _Life is good._

 ** _RING!_** Crisp accordion tunes waft from Lysandre's small but efficient speakers. And Giovanni _swears_ that he can smell the aromas of macaron, of baguettes, of Kalosian bakeries in hours of early morning for some unknown reason.

And he begins to feel a bit self-conscious.

"Bienvenue, mes étudiantes!" Lysandre sheds his fur coat to reveal... a leather suit. He runs a hand through his red mane. Holographic flames hiss from the sides. "Welcome, students. Today we have a special guest: my colleague, Giovanni!"

"Hi. Bonjour."

"Giovanni is a professor within the School of Business and Management. He teaches both undergraduate and graduate—"

"Ahem."

"Ah." Lysandre chuckles. Giovanni sinks into his seat. _Damn it._ He loosens his collar, and thank Mew that Pyroar-fanatic is moving on with his lecture.

"All right," says the aristocrat. "So back to our previous lecture on Tuesday, I'd like to do a demonstration today. Any brave volunteers?"

"Oh! Oh!"

Lysandre scans the crowd. "Anyone other than Serena?"

"Aw, come on!"

Lysandre turns to his unwilling colleague. "Giovanni," he purrs. The latter blanches. "Pick a volunteer, please."

Giovanni grumbles something, but for the sake of saving face, he peels himself from the chair. "Um. How about you? Yes, you, the one hiding under the blanket."

"Amazing," Lysandre murmurs. "X actually came today…"

The young man in question shakes his head fervently and withdraws back into his shell.

"I'll do it!" says a student who looks suspiciously like X.

Lysandre claps his powerful hands. "Merci, Calem." He makes way for the student to approach the front. Then the professor pulls out his sleek black wallet from his faux pockets, and that's when everyone drops their phones to pay utmost attention.

X throws off his blanket, and he races down the aisle. Lysandre's smirk widens as he drops a handful of Poke on the floor.

_So that's what he's doing._

Lysandre taps a finger to his temples. "Hm. How should I split this?"

"50-50?" Calem whispers. X bobs his head.

"Hm. Are you sure about that?"

Calem hesitates. Lysandre nonchalantly pours out two scoops of glimmering poke. "Calem, you have full power over how to split this with X. Declare your ultimatum, and you'll go home ten times richer than before! However, the caveat is—"

"I'll take all of it!"

"WHAT?!" X springs up to his feet. "That's not fair!"

Calem throws his long bangs over his shoulder. "I'll buy you a new blanket—"

"NO!"

Lysandre heaps another waterfall of Poke to the river. "The caveat is, if X rejects, then both of you get nothing."

"WHAT?!" Calem yelps. X gives a nasty smirk. "F-Fine! We'll split this 70-30!"

"Hell no!"

"Why?" the professor says with another bucket of gold. "A 30% share is still better than nothing, X."

"Yes, but it's not fair!"

"It's fair to me!" Calem retorts.

Lysandre presses a button on his 18-carat rose gold dress watch. The money dematerializes into glittering sparkles. X's knees buckle, and he crumbles to the floor. Calem just stares at the empty space where the Poke had once been. Their shoulders are trembling, but they're masking their crushing disappointment to the best of their abilities.

_Oh well. That's life, kids._

"So what have we learned today, students?"

No reply. Hearts are struggling to rebuild themselves. So the professor moves on. "Today's experiment was to demonstrate an important theory in behavioral economics. Now, according to traditional economics, what would've X have done?"

"He would've accepted the 70-30 deal, according to the Principle of Benefit Maximization."

"Très bien, Giovanni. X should have accepted because anything will be better than nothing. However, you claimed that it was 'unfair.'"

X stares blearily at the professor. "That's the point of the Ultimatum Game," Lysandre continues. "Rather than maximizing the gains, humans have the puzzling tendency to defer to values of 'justice' and 'fairness.'

"Now, recall the previous lecture. According to the Prisoner's Dilemma, to achieve maximum gain, the two players must…"

* * *

 ** _Ding. Ding._** Lysandre ends the class right on the bell.

"That was a great lecture, Giovanni says after everyone left.

"Why, thank you." A deep chuckle. "I do feel sorry for them. Calem was coming close to crying, but…" He shrugs. "Honestly, did they really expect me to start throwing money out on classroom grounds?"

_I wouldn't mind._ Giovanni leaves that thought unspoken.

Lysandre closes his satin briefcase. "I have to run to another class across campus. I'll see you soon, all right? Dinner's on me today."

That causes the edges of Giovanni's lips to tug upwards. "Heh. What's the chef making?"

"Madeleine and mille-feuille. Cheese soufflé—Oh. You meant the entrée. Er… Erm…"

Giovanni chuckles. "I'll let you go to class now. Either way, I'm sure it will be delicious."

Lysandre smirks. Giovanni braces for those moisturized lips to peck his cheek, but nothing comes, thank _MEW._ "Of course, mon ami. Everyone will love it for sure, even Ghetsis!" He gives a cheerful wave. "Adieu!"

"Ciao." And Giovanni departs from the auditorium. The cloudless skies are blue like the seas in summertime. He takes a deep breath.

_Okay. Where to next?_

* * *

A fat Starly slams into the door. Giovanni glances around. Once he ascertains that students are hypnotized by their phones, the professor hurries over to help the little fellow back on its belly. The bird gives him a beady-eyed look as it flies away.

The door creaks open. A blast of cold air slaps his face. _Hmmm. Air conditioning…_ Giovanni checks his surroundings one more time before he slips inside.

"No languages are inferior, and all languages are governed by a system of rules called grammar. Now, we learned about Universal Grammar last Wednesday. Someone give me a bried run-down."

_Ooooh. Holy Mew, this will be good._ Like his pampered Persian, Giovanni slinks to the side and takes a seat in the air-conditioned lecture hall.

"In Unova, there are many different dialects. A person in Nimbasa would have difficulty understanding someone from Driftveil. However, someone from Castelia—"

"Professor!"

"What do you want, Black?"

"Where in Unova are you from?"

"Hilbert, you have your hand up."

"There's a strange man in the class!"

_Oh hell._

Ghetsis's face breaks into a crooked smirk. He slams his cane on the carpeted floor. "Well, well. If it isn't my number one rival."

"We are _not_ rivals," Giovanni hisses. "I am superior to you in every way." His eyes dart to the door, but Ghetsis is faster. Soon there's a tree blocking the exit, and the Pokemon on hand doesn't know Cut.

"Class!" Ghetsis bellows. "We have a special demo today! Giovanni, get over here!"

"No!"

"Aw, come on," says a student with a high ponytail and mischievous blue eyes. "Are you too _chicken_ like a Torchic? Bok-bok!"

"W-What the hell is wrong with your student?!"

"White's right!" Ghetsis roars. "Giovanni's a Torchic! Bok-bok!"

"H-Hey—"

"Bok-bok!" Now the whole damn class is doing it. Giovanni glares at them to shut up, and thank Mew they did.

"FINE!" He storms down the center aisle to a grinning Ghetsis. _Stupid Unovans. Stupid tree._ "What the hell do you want?!"

Ghetsis hurries to shut down the projector. He takes a piece of colored chalk and unleashes cursive upon the board.

The Lettuce-man notices Giovanni's staring. "Myaha… jealous?"

"N-No!" Givoanni shoves his fists into his pockets. "I-I wouldn't want spaghetti writing!"

Ghetsis snorts. "Can you read this, old man?"

"O-Of course I can!" Giovanni squints at the five-lettered word. "'Ghoti.'"

"PPPPFFT!" Sounds like someone punched him in the stomach, if they could reach the top of the tree. What's worse is that the students are snickering as well. "N-Nope. Try again."

"'Ghoti!'" A vein pulsates across Giovanni's forehead. That only makes Ghetsis laugh even harder. "W-What? What the hell's so damn funny?!"

"MYAHAHA!! Oh… oh. Phew." Ghetsis wipes a tear from his eye. "Oh, you should've seen the look on your face." He quiets the rowdy crowd. "My dear Giovanni, are you sure you passed grade school? This is how you spell 'fish.'"

Giovanni blinks. "Ghetsis." He's staring at the other professor as if the latter had suddenly adopted his son's kind and caring personality. "Ghetsis." Spoken very, very slowly as if speaking to a baby. "I think your vision is going."

Ghetsis's smirk slips. "What—No, you idiot. Look." He taps his cane to the board. "How do you pronounce the 'gh' in 'enough?' The 'o' in 'women?' The 'ti' in 'nation?'"

Giovanni tests that theory out loud. And he realizes his mistake too late.

"Welcome to college," the Lettuce-man says as the class cracks up.

"DAMN YOU, GHETSIS!" Giovanni tugs on his collar. Unfortunately, it's not tall enough to cover his face. He's sweating profusely now, despite the room being chilled like a refrigerator.

Ghtesis suddenly stops grinning. "Hey." The student drops his phone, and the professor confiscates it. "No recording without permission. You, you. And you, I saw that. Phones now. I'll deal with you after class."

"B-But—"

_"Now."_

Giovanni raises a brow. Ghetsis clears his throat. Does it twice. "S-So." A third time. "Give it up for Giovanni, folks! You _can_ teach an old Stoutland new tricks!"

"S-Shut up." But the applause is tremendous. Giovanni sheds his coat. He busies himself in studying the seams where his wife had made corrections, marks from a long, long time ago.

"Professor De--Ghetsis!"

"What do you want, Hilda?"

"There's a strange man—"

"Colorless green ideas sleep furiously!" That comes from a slicked head with an odd blue swirl around it. "That's what I've heard!" the scientist says as he dabs on his half-moon glasses. He ambles to the front. "However, I disagree! That sentence is pragmatic nonsense, yet you insist that it has significance…"

Giovanni raises a finger. "Um. Ghetsis. Who's—"

"So by the properties of Universal Grammar, we can conclude that…" Ghetsis is all the way on the other side of the stage. The scientist runs over, and the professor runs back.

_Are they playing tag?_

"Ghetsis! Ghetsis! Den—" He finally notices Giovanni. "Oh!" His golden eyes light up. "Excuse me! I am a scientist. My name is Colress. The theme of my research is—"

"Flap your mouth somewhere else!" Ghetsis hisses. "I have a class!"

"Dennis! Look at my new Col—"

_"Dennis?"_ Giovanni wheezes.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Ghetsis roars, slicing his cane through the air. "And don't you have a class?!"

The scientist pouts. "A _tiny_ accident resulted in the release of Hydrogen Sulfide in the basement. _Buuuut!_ They're cleaning it up as we speak! I've nothing better to do right now, so I've been working on this Achroma Machine No. 225! Look!"

Giovanni should've done something. He should've, but it's always too late. Colress aims his sleeve to the ceiling. He presses his cuff links, and a beam of light shoots to the overhead projector.

Students scramble to safety as hot, melted cheese drips from the lights.

"WHAT THE HECK?! Colress, you and your dumb scraps of junk!"

"Excuse me?! I disagree!" Colress slaps his chest. "My inventions are state-of-the-art _art!_ They are unique, just like me! Imagine if I put this in patent! No more hungry students—"

And he shuts up at Giovanni's glare. "What the _hell_ did you do to my school?" Giovanni growls. Colress backs away until he trips over his own lab coat, falling flat on his ass.

"Class dismissed." Ghetsis shoos the students out. "Listen. Let's calm down and discuss this in a civilized—"

"Do you _understand_ how much that projector costs? You made a damn hole in the ceiling!" Giovanni gestures angrily to the puddle of bubbly cheese. "You can't just go around destroying public property—"

"Yo, professors! This cheese is bomb!"

Ghetsis smacks a hand against his forehead. "Hilbert, don’t _eat_ that!"

"Hey," Colress mutters. "It's perfectly edible. It's my own special macaroni and cheese recipe converted into—"

He shuts up. Giovanni's glaring holes into that butter-head right now, and there's nothing Ghetsis can do to calm his temper. The possibility of a mafia takeover has never been more terrifying.

"Clean that up," Giovanni snarls. Colress whimpers. "Clean that up right now!"

* * *

Giovanni is tired. He is sweating, exhausted, and hoarse from yelling at that idiot scientist and his stupid Achroma Machine.

_Thank Mew it's over._ Everything was fixed, surprisingly enough; even Ghetsis stayed around to help with clean-up. _Watercress should be lucky he still has his job. If the old hag hears about this..._

Back in the real world, a hot wind sands his face. The sun is dipping into the horizon, casting shadows across the courtyard. Some students greet the professor as he passes, and he of course returns a wave.

_Time to go home for some_ _Pi_ _ña Colada._ Giovanni begins to head for the gates when he feels a pair of eyes on his neck. It's that chubby Starly from before. The bird cocks its head. Then it hops to the side.

"You want me to follow you?" _Why the hell am I talking to a Pokemon?_ But the bird nods and extends a wing. Giovanni keeps his head down as he follows Starly down the cobblestone path, past the swaying palm trees, past the Lavender Library that's playing its evening tune…

Starly stops at a set of double doors.

"The Central Limit Theorem is the fundamental concept of normal distributions…"

Giovanni's eyelids are drooping. Starly bashes his chin, earning a surprised gasp from the man. A majority of the room is also falling asleep… that, or they're on their phones, surfing the Instafacechatweb or whatever young people do nowadays.

"T curves… z-curves… confidence intervals…" That monotone never breaks. His slides are sparse, but he's unpacking a lot of information within his lecturing.

"Man, when is this robot going to stop?" A burly student who can't even wear his cap right performs an exaggerated impersonation of Cyrus's aloof mannerisms. "All he does is ramble on about crap no one cares!" His friends snicker. The student pushes his face into a life-stealing, soul-absorbing frown. "My name is Cyrus. I found this human skin in the trash. My eyebrows burned off—"

An icy nail scratches at hearts. Everyone in the vicinity shudders as an unseen chill slithers through the air. It's a coldness that immediately extinguishes all notions of violence within Giovanni's brain, and his fists drop on their own.

Cyrus is still talking. Giovanni rubs his neck. Gooseflesh had claimed colonies down his skin.

Then a tiny hand raises, shattering the dead silence from the audience. "U-Um… Professor?"

"Yes."

"U-Um… n-no. Never mind. Sor—"

"You have a question."

"Eep! Um… uh." Cyrus simply waits in that intimidating stance of his. The student swallows—hard. "Can… can you go back to the previous slide? Um. A-And can you give another example for problem three? P-Please?"

Cyrus goes back on his power point and gives the example, his movements smooth and precise like a machine's.

The students in the back release an obnoxious sigh. "Ugh, seriously? I wanna get out of here already. Why can't that smartass shut up—"

They freeze. Permafrost worms its way into the nooks of spines, forcing necks up like frozen poles. And eyes as blue as ice, as sharp as daggers, pierce into fearful hearts.

"Sir," Cyrus says. Without looking, everyone knows who he's speaking to.

"Oh shi--How'd the Ice King—"

_"Sir."_ The air crackles with tension. Giovanni protects his neck from cracking. "To the front."

"Y-You can't—"

_"Now."_

The student's legs move on their own. No one dares to look at him, not even his friends.

Cyrus says the student's name, and the latter's kneecaps pop. "Need I remind you," the professor states in a low, flat voice, "that you don't have to sit here and listen to this _robot's_ droning. There's no need to subject yourself to the worthless _crap_ I have to say."

A shadow casts over hardening eyes. "You're the captain of the water polo team, correct? I am aware that victory has evaded you for quite some time… It seems that your ego compensates for your lack of common courtesy."

Everyone is awake now. Phones and computers and significant others are cast aside, forgotten. A pen drops to the carpeted floor, the impact reverberating through the hall like a fallen grenade.

Cyrus still has that terrifyingly blank expression. "I know you can care less about me, about my class, but I will _not_ tolerate your hampering another student's learning. You still have time to drop my class without repercussion, and I will _gladly_ sign any paperwork that comes my way.

"You are wasting my time. You are wasting everyone's time." Those eyes flash, and thunder pounds through the ceiling. "You have class tomorrow noon, correct?"

"N-No." The student chokes on his own spit. "I don't—"

"My office. Location is on your syllabus."

"Y-You can't--!"

Cyrus's frown deepens, reducing the student to a whimpering mess. "I hope this matter will _never_ repeat itself. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-Yes! S-S-Sir!"

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, the Ice King returns to his lecture.

* * *

After what seems like an eternity of agonizing silence, the bell finally rings. Students shove each other on the way to the door. The one whose soul had been stripped clean had to be carried outside by his friends.

Giovanni waits for the halls to empty (didn’t take long) before peering inside. Cyrus is messaging his temples as he packs up his stuff.

"P…Professor Cyrus?" _It's that kid from before._ He's standing awkwardly near the exit, his hands wringing like a limp rag.

Cyrus looks up. "Yes, Diamond? Do you have a question?"

The young man's eyes widen. "You… You know my name?!"

The professor presents the attendance sheet to the bewildered student. "That's your name, right? Diamond?"

"Y-Yes, but… I-I thought you didn't take attendance…"

"I don't," is the curt reply. Cyrus hoists his backpack over his shoulders. "This class is a course perquisite for many STEM majors. I have over 300 students in this lecture alone, last time I checked."

Diamond is staring at his shoes. "People often mistake me for Lucas…"

"Lucas isn't in this class." Cyrus rubs his eyes. "You always participate in my lectures, Diamond. And you ask good questions. At the end of the day, this is your education, and if I can help you get the most out of it, then let me know.

The student is gaping at the professor. Cyrus frowns. "Do… Do you have any questions then? If not, you can always stop by my office hours. We can also schedule an appointment at your earliest convenience."

"Thank you, Professor Cyrus." Diamond is smiling now. Cyrus blinks. "I'm slow, so it takes me a while to understand concepts. It's really hard for me to be brave to ask questions… And it's really hard to make friends here, seeing how I don't seem to fit at RRU…"

Cyrus's gaze slides to the side. The student continues. "My mom, Professor Cyrus. She worked hard so I can get a good education. And I want to work hard so I can give back. I'm from Twinleaf Town, you see… it's a very small place, so everyone was so happy that I got accepted…" He's looking at Cyrus with shining eyes. "T-That's why I'm so grateful you said all those things! You gave me the confidence to work even harder!!"

Cyrus's expression is unreadable. Giovanni wonders if he should step in when his colleague finally picks his eyeballs off the floor.

"You're from Twinleaf Town?" Cyrus is talking to his sleeves. His fingers are absently dancing across his coat buttons. "You… You're from Sinnoh too…?"

Diamond gasps. "Wow! I thought it was just the three of us here! Where's your hometown, Pro—"

_"Cha la cha cha! Parapa para para dandon dandan!"_ It's the phone. _Some kind of anime opening… Wasn't this what Silver always watched?_ Diamond excuses himself. When he returns, there's a small, apologetic grin on his face.

"Sorry, Professor. I forgot I have to meet up for a group project. Um… I…"

"It's all right." Cyrus gives him a nod. "I'll see you Friday then, Diamond."

And Diamond beams. Sunlight showers the room in warmth, dispelling all traces of the previous blizzard. "Of course, Professor Cyrus! I'll bring more questions!"

He stops. "Oh, and Professor Cyrus? My best friends call me Dia. They're also from Sinnoh. I'll introduce everyone next time!"

Diamond waves before leaving. Cyrus stares at the door. He's rubbing his eyes as he proceeds up the stairs to a waiting Giovanni.

"Cyrus. Cyrus." Giovanni passes a hand through unseeing eyes. "Cyrus, earth to Cyrus."

Cyrus blinks. It takes him a good minute to orient his focus back to the present. "Gio…" He shakes his head. "Ah. Giovanni. You have class today?"

"No." Giovanni joins the younger professor out the ivory gates of RRU. "I finished grading. Thought I'd accompany you home."

Cyrus tilts his head. "Is that so? Thank you." A Kricketune rolls across the grass. "How was your day, Giovanni?"

"I learned a few things." Giovanni chuckles. "How about you, Cyrus? Everything okay? Cyrus?"

"Yes." He helps the Pokemon to its feet. Kricketune peers up at the solemn human, and it utters a melodic laugh. "The usual." Giovanni raises a brow but doesn't push it. A comfortable silence stretches between the two men as they proceed back to the mansion in the woods.

"Giovanni? Whose turn is it to cook tonight?"

"Lysandre's." Giovanni is whistling with his thumbs in his pockets. "Why? You'd rather have someone else? Like me?"

Cyrus purses his lips. "I'm not picky, but… I think items of confectionery are rather sweet."

"Well… chocolates are supposed to be sweet, Cyrus."

"Hm." Someone's stomach growls. Cyrus flushes, but Giovanni just laughs and pats that fluffy head.

"Come on, kid," the older man says. "I'm famished too. Everyone's waiting at home, so we better hurry before the food gets cold!"


	14. And Down Came the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mafia and chocolate chip cookies, nerds and mystery.

It's been raining for weeks now. Gloomy skies as long as one can remember. Roads slicked with water, and often a glance to the windows of his office saw a student skidding across the courtyard.

That was last week. The University had been closed since (services have moved online, but professors and technology don't really mix) to wait out monsoon season.

_"That sucks,"_ speaks the voice over the phone. _"So you've been stuck inside all day, Dad?"_

"Make that two weeks." **_BOOM!_** The mansion plunges into white. Then black. Then color again.

_"How are your friends, Dad? Black tells me that it's also flu season. A lot of students are sick right now."_

"They're fine." Ghetsis peeks outside his room. Giovanni's on the couch, tallying assets while pampering his Persian. Archie's napping, Maxie's grading in Cyrus's room. And Lysandre's taking a long, hot bath. "We're managing."

_"Phew. That's good." Plick. Plick._ Rain is vomiting from bruised skies. _On the other side of the word, N's probably looking out the window too. Who knows what he's doing… eating ketchup, I bet. Hopefully the Shadow Triad are doing their jobs…_

"Did you eat yet?" The line crackles. "Hey. Hey, what's going on?"

_"I… storm… hear…"_ Static erupts from the other end. **_BOOM!_** And the line goes dead.

_Great._

Ghetsis storms into the main room in time to see a disgruntled Maxie and Cyrus. "The Internet got shot," the nerd sighs. "We were hosting online office hours."

"Oh."

Giovanni sets his charts aside. "Leaf told me that there are blackouts in the dorm area of RRU. They're doing their best to fix it, of course... But who knows how long …"

"Stupid storms." Ghetsis crosses his arms. He follows Cyrus's gaze to the murky windows. Storms remind him of slick roads. Or poor visibility. Of a stupid mistake, blinding lights—

_"DAAAAAAAD!"_

Ghetsis automatically clutches his right arm, and for a long, painful second, the world is split between black and white.

The bathroom door opens, and out comes Lysandre in a curtain of steam. His robe ripples like golden rivulets when a ripe, hairy leg emerges from under the fabric. He sheds his silken towel, allowing his mane to blossom like a sunflower.

"About time." A groggy Archie stumbles to the bathroom and slams the door.

"Is it still raining?" _Why do you smell like a fruit salad?_ Lysandre slides a hand over his luscious mane. "Kyogre must be very sad today."

"What about Kyogre?!"

Maxie slaps the bathroom door. "This weather phenomenon is due to the hot-to-cold change in temperature." His red eyes light up as he speaks. "Since the land is warmer than the ocean around this time of year, air from the sea rushes in to fill the void of the air that rose. Alola's surrounded by ocean, hence the ample moisture—"

"Okay, okay." Ghetsis rubs his poor ears. "I get it, Professor Dirt."

"Hey—"

"Maxie is right, Ghetsis." Ghetsis shudders at that unnerving monotone. Giovanni smirks. "The Kanto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh Regions are not strangers to monsoons… In fact, some still call the monsoon season the season of 'plum rains.'"

Maxie gasps. "Oh, I know that legend! It's based on an old tale from a faraway land…"

Ghetsis absently rubs his jaw. "You know… Weather in Unova varies vastly depending on where you're from. The Western Coast sees more sunshine, hence it's the main producer of 80% of the nation's crops." _I should bring them some oranges. Sweetest things these suckers will ever eat._ "There's hurricanes in the Midwest. And where we're from, the East Coast, it's always humid and snowing."

Maxie claps his hands. "So your Region experiences anticyclonic systems, then… Interesting. Ghetsis, have you heard of the Intertropical Convergence Zone?"

_The what— **BAM!**_ Archie triumphantly emerges from the restroom. "Near the equator!" he roars. "Where trade winds converge!"

Lysandre wrinkles his nose. "Speaking of winds, they blew down a tree near the RRU Student Store not long ago."

"Winds are taking down trees in the Forest." Giovanni juts his chin to the window. "But don't worry a thing. It's perfectly safe here."

A chill slides down Ghetsis's spine. _N said it's sunnier on the other side of the world._ "The students…"

"Dining services are still open," Lysandre mumbles after seeing the other's expression.

"But they'll have to walk outside," Archie huffs. "Not all of them have proper rain equipment…"

**_BOOM!_** Thunder oozes into pockets of silence. A fist of gale slams into the glass, rattling steel frames. Persian jumps off his laps so Giovanni can yank the curtains close.

"I'm turning up the thermostat," he mutters.

"Is the oven still working?"

Giovanni raises a brow. "Yes… I use electricity, not gas. Knock yourself out, Leaf-Head."

"I am _not_ a stinking Leaf-Head, Old Man…" Ghetsis stomps into the kitchen. He produces the necessary tools from the shelves, the necessary ingredients from the fridge. _All fresh, mind you. There's enough food to last for three days. Oh, and Cyrus did a pretty good job cleaning, as always._

And speaking of that Woobat, he's right there when Ghetsis turns. "WOAH! HOLY KYRUEM WHAT'S _WRONG_ WITH YOU?!" _Ow, ow._ "You want to give me a heart attack, brat?!"

Cyrus frowns. "No, I wouldn't wish that upon anyone—" His expression darkens. "Ghetsis, are you feeling shortness of breath?"

"What? No!" Ghetsis slams the mixing bowl on the counter. "Don't you have anything better to do than stare at me?"

Cyrus drops his gaze to his hands. "The others are playing 'Mafia' at Giovanni's insistence. I was murdered."

Ghetsis blinks. "You were… ooooh. Okay. You _died."_ Laughter erupts from the living room, followed by an expletive and a harsh reprimand from Archie. _Oh boy._ He clears his throat. "You can watch if you want… but you're cleaning up afterwards."

"I'll do my best, Ghetsis." _Holy Reshiram he's serious._ Conviction burns in those dim blue eyes. Ghetsis busies himself by memorizing the fill lines of the measuring cup, neverminding that heavy presence near the table.

After ten minutes' worth of preheating cookware, Ghetsis finally opens his mouth. "You know how to crack eggs? Cyrus?"

Cyrus had been standing in that position since they last talked. He lifts his head at Ghetsis's voice. "Yes."

"Um." Chills. "Make me some eggs."

"Of course. Do you want the yolks separated?"

"No… whisk them together. Thanks."

Awkward doesn't _begin_ to describe being in the same kitchen with the quietest member of RRU's finest. It shouldn't bother him this much, considering how long he'd known the little guy, but it does. Ghetsis would often sneak glances over his shoulder. As the other room explodes with yelling and laughter, Cyrus is hunched over his work station, calibrating the appropriate angle to crack the egg without wasting albumen.

"Wait, wait!" Ghetsis stops the kid before he can dump the entire canister of salt into the batter. "Haven't you heard of tablespoons, Cyrus?"

Cyrus stares as Ghetsis presents the ring of spoons. "I was eyeballing it," the former mutters. "Why do you need all those spoons, Ghetsis?"

"To measure ingredients," is the gruff reply. "So you don’t upset the ratio of stuff."

"I see. Lysandre tells me that there are over 100 different types of spoons." Cyrus looks at him expectantly. "Is that true, Ghetsis?"

"Um. M-Maybe?" Ghetsis clears his throat. "A-Anyway. Observe. Once you put all the ingredients in, you mix it. You can do it with good old fashion muscle power, but why think harder when you're smart, like me?" He pulls out a shiny weapon. "This is a beater. Stand clear—" Then geniusness strikes him like the idea for a new composition. "Cyrus. Do you want to eat the batter?"

Cyrus's gives him a strange look. "You… want me to _ingest_ raw dough?"

"L-Listen to me!" _N never got a stomachache. And he eats vegan mayonnaise._ Ghetsis scoops a fleck onto his silicone spoon. "I need someone to check if it's too sweet."

"Archie will be a much better candidate." Cyrus is frowning, but that's just his default expression.

"You're already here," Ghetsis groans. "Just do it."

Cyrus purses his lips. Very, very slowly, he brings sticks a clean chopstick into the batter. Ghetsis holds his breath.

"Well?!"

"I am consuming raw dough." Cyrus grimaces. _He looks a little green._ "There's nothing outstanding, aside from the brown sugar and vanilla extract."

"That's because we didn't add the secret ingredient--"

_"LOVE!"_ N shouts from the other side of the world. Ghetsis violently shakes his head. He brings up a bowl of chocolate chips—a generous portion too.

"Now, it's important that the pan is ungreased. We'll just scoop the batter like so… put 'em on… and in the oven they go."

Cyrus peers inside the glass. "What did you make, Ghetsis?"

"What did _we_ make. You'll see." The older man smirks. And that's when Archie comes in, drawn to the smell of sweet dough.

"Man, something smells DIVINE!" Archie drapes an arm over Cyrus's shoulder. "How long, G-man?"

_G-G-man?!_ "About 10 minutes…"

"Cool! Hey, we're starting a new round of Mafia. It's getting heated!"

_Mafia… Of course Giovanni came up with that idea. I wouldn't be surprised if he…_ The professors follow Archie into the living room.

**_BOOM!_**

"Sit down, gentlemen." Lysandre pulls out some cushions. Ghetsis sits on the elevated seat while Cyrus joins Maxie and Archie on the floor. "Giovanni murdered us last time."

"Murdered," Ghetsis echoes.

"Metaphorically speaking." There's nothing sound about Giovanni's smirk.

"He won the last three rounds!" Maxie moans. "And they kept killing me! The Doctor! I'm innocent, I tell you!"

"Um. What the _heck_ is going on here?"

Archie spreads his hands. "You'll understand as you play, Ghetsis. Here." He places a can in the middle of the circle. _Are we… summoning something?_ "Let's draw numbers."

"Fine." Ghetsis unrolls his slip. "I got—"

"Hold your Ponyta," Giovanni says. "In real life, do you announce to the world that you're a cold-blooded killer? Who has number 8001?"

"I do!"

"Great, so Maxie's the Storyteller. Basically the one who decides who lives, who dies, as he tells your story."

_That sounds… super ominous._ Thunder pounds the roof. Frost wedges itself into every nook and cranny of Ghetsis's spine.

"Number 9 is the Killer. Quite self-explanatory. You basically pick you who you want to push into the ocean." There's an unnerving nonchalance in Giovanni's tone. "Number 106 is the Doctor—you choose who to save. Number 72 is the Detective—you convict the Killer."

_How many numbers are there…?_ Ghetsis pretends to stretch, but everyone has their damn numbers face-down on the floor.

"The rest will be innocent civilians," Giovanni continues. "It'll make more sense as we play. Maxie, take it away."

Maxie rubs his hands. "Everyone close your eyes please."

"What? This is ridiculous!"

Archie scowls. "Ghetsis. Do you want to play or not?"

"Fine!" Ghetsis closes his eyes. The darkness is suffocating. No clues nor signs to indicate where anything is. He scoots closer to the scent of spicy cologne and hair gel.

Maxie takes a deep breath. Times his opening statement just as thunder strikes. "It was a dark and stormy night… All six of us have been invited to the mansion in the outskirts of the woods… When the clock chimed midnight, we all headed to bed…"

**_BOOM!_** "And under the cover of night, the Killer steals across the halls! Murder raged in his mind as he approached Room 217… He grabs the serrated knife from his pocket KILLER OPEN YOUR EYES AND PICK THE PERSON YOU WANT TO KILL!"

_What? What?! WHAT?!_ Ghetsis is _so_ tempted to open his eyes—if not his childlike insistence on winning this game. A breeze spits in his face. A silent judgement from someone in the ranks… a wolf amongst the sheep.

"Okay!" says Maxie. "Killer, close your eyes. Now, the Doctor, open your eyes! Choose the person you wish to save! No, point at him! Don't speak!"

_How did this turn into a game of life-or-death? Just think, how a simple gesture can end one's life! A little mistake…_

_A mistake…_

"Okay, thank you, Doctor. You may close your eyes. Now, Detective, look!"

Ghetsis's eyelids flutter open. All four of his colleagues have their heads down with the exception of Maxie. "Detective," the man says. "Who do you think is the Killer? Point to that person."

_Um… okay._ Ghetsis lifts his finger. And he swears— _swears_ that he hears a smirk cracking from somewhere in the storm!!

"Thank you, Detective. Everyone, open your eyes. So… when morning came, everyone was alive! The Doctor saved that unfortunate victim from the Killer's bloody paws!"

Archie's sigh nearly yanks the hair off Ghetsis's scalp. "Oh thank Kyogre—"

"BUT!" Lightning splices the heavens, casting half of Maxie's face in shadow. Glasses glint like a scratched, serrated blade, speckled with blood. "The Killer still runs free! And it's one of you! Whodunit—"

"It's Giovanni!" Ghetsis blurts.

"HUH?" Said man does a double-take. "The hell's wrong with you?!"

"It _has_ to be him! I mean, just _LOOK_ at him!"

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?!"

"So one vote for Giovanni, one vote for Ghetsis as the Killer," Maxie says.

"Giovanni," adds Lysandre, earning a glare from the man.

Archie's rubbing his chin. " I mean… Giovanni could've… o-or it could've been Ghetsis! Your alibi's flimsy like your hair!"

Ghetsis slams his palm on the floor as thunder strikes. **_BOOM!_**

"Cyrus," Maxie says calmly. "Who do you think is the Killer?"

Heads whip to Cyrus's direction. The youngest professor scoots back ever so slightly.

"Come on, Cyrus." Giovanni has a charming, award-winning smile. "You know I won't hurt a fly!"

Ghetsis makes a gagging sound. "Come on, Cyrus. You know that's a dang lie. Look at his face. Take a good look at that lying scoundrel's face."

"It's Archie," Cyrus mumbles.

"What?!" Archie yelps. Even _Ghetsis_ is shocked at that decision. "B-But I… Come on, Cyrus!" Cyrus refuses to meet anyone's eyes. Archie scratches his beard. "Okay. I vote for Giovanni."

"WHAT?!"

**_BOOM!_**

"Okay!" Maxie chirps. "Giovanni's is dead! Moving on—"

"Wait, you have the wrong man!"

"That's what they all say," Ghetsis growls.

Maxie's lips are curling, curling up to his eyes. "Giovanni is innocent. Just a law-abiding citizen who was wrongly framed and executed by friendly fire."

Giovanni freezes. He stares at Maxie with gaping jaw. Even the other professors wonder if they'd heard the same thing.

And Maxie claps his hands. "Moving on! Everyone, close your eyes! Except you, Giovanni. You can observe as a ghost."

"Maxie, are you… okay?"

"Now, it's a brand new day. All of you were eating dinner… a delicious meal of fried eggs, rice, Lava Cookies, and coconut milk! That is, until something crashed from upstairs! Everyone rushed to investigate, and in the heat of the moment, the killer slipped some poison into the dish! Killer, who was your unfortunate victim?

"Okay! Now, Doctor, who do you save? Detective, Whodunit?"

Ghetsis catches Giovanni's smug smirk. But there's also something uneasy in those hardened silver eyes. And they both know who's the cause of that slight discomfort.

Everyone opens their eyes at Maxie's grand reveal. "Ah, but alas, the Doctor saved the wrong person! Our unlucky victim returned to finish his meal, wash it down with Vermouth and Gin… only to meet his grim end by cyanide poisoning! Lysandre, better luck next time."

Lysandre's jaw drops. "Oh what the… Damn."

"Welcome to the club," Giovanni grunts.

Ghetsis steadies his heart. "S-So… was Lysandre the Killer?"

There's something chilling about Maxie's expression. One that makes Ghetsis scoot back to Giovanni. "Oh, Ghetsis… The Killer still sits among the three of you. Don't forget that there's still the Doctor… but the culprit that the Detective indicted…" Maxie leans back and laces his hands. "Poor Lysandre's eaten his last supper."

"You… are really getting into your role!" Lysandre chuckles nervously. It takes a good minute for the realization to settle in, and when it does, gooseflesh breaks down Ghetsis's neck as if Maxie had assaulted him with scalding water.

"It's Ghetsis!" Archie blurts. **_BOOM!_** "I _knew_ you had bad blood!"

**_BOOM!_**

"M-Me?! What about you? For all I know, your good nature is just a façade!"

"Do I _look_ like the type to kill someone by ruining their food?"

**_BOOM! BOOM!_ **

"You—" _Wait. He's right. Archie? The Murderer? He's an idiot who wrestles with fish. But then that leaves…_

_**BOOOOOM!**_

White's words echo: " _The quiet ones are the most dangerous, Professor Ghetsis."_

"I am not the Murderer," Cyrus states flatly. Chillingly so. _What a killer glare…_

Meanwhile, the aristocrats are staying at least two meters away from Maxie, who rubs his palms in gleeful anticipation. "Do you have an alibi, Cyrus?"

"I am being convicted for a crime I didn't do." Cyrus frowns. _Wait… This is Cyrus we're talking about. Who knows what he's really thinking…_

_Time to use my ace._ "I have a son!" Ghetsis announces at the top of his lungs.

Archie smacks a fist on his palm. "Damn right! He's the one who eats peanut butter straight from the jar!"

Then he cranes his neck. "You've been glaring at us ever since we started, Cyrus… Is there… something we should know?"

**_BOOM!_ **

"You are gravely mistaken if you believe I am the perpetrator, Archie."

Ghetsis juts a finger. "I-It's Cyrus! For sure!"

"Y-Yeah!" Archie yelps, cowering behind Ghetsis's back.

"No—"

"BOOM!" Maxie slams his kneecaps. He could've been swinging a bottle of Vodka by now. "Goodbye, Cyrus! You'll sorely be missed!"

"Oh no," Archie whispers. "He's acting like his old self…"

_His… old self…?_

Giovanni beckons Cyrus over to the covenant of ghosts. Maxie removes his glasses, and _Holy Kyurem_ does he look like a completely different person. A wilder Maxie. And daresay, a much more malicious version.

"After the Doctor was killed in cold blood by the Detective's hand—a bullet to the noggin, boom!—the Killer was free to finish his diabolical plan. It just so happens that the Ides of March were approaching…"

"What—"

"AAARGH!" Archie rushes Ghetsis like a stampeding Bouffalant. The latter hits the hardwood floor with a dull thump.

And those memories flash through his eyes. _Black. White. Null. Rain. Skidding, skidding, hydroplaning—_

"GET! OFF! STUPID--! ECOTERRORIST! FISH-BRAIN!"

"Sheesh, Ghetsis… It's just a game." Archie looks genuinely hurt.

"S-Sorry." Ghetsis clears his throat. "Sorry, Archie."

Archie brightens immediately. "That's okay, buddy!" He wraps his beefy arms around his colleague. Sweaty, beefy arms.

"Phew." Maxie rubs his eyes. Stretches his stupid spaghetti arms. "Wow. What a story!" He puts on his glasses, reverting back to the Maxie they all knew and loved.

"M-Maxie?" Giovanni whispers.

"Yes?"

"You're back!" Lysandre exclaims. Maxie looks a bit confused, but he just smiles.

**_DING!_** Giovanni shoots to his feet. He rushes to the fruit bowl, glare never leaving that door—

"That's just the oven," Ghetsis grunts. _Why the fruit bowl? What are you hiding…?_

Lysandre perks up. "Oh! Are you baking, Monsieur Ghetsis? Please tell me it's something aesthetically appealing."

"Aesthetically appealing…. I don't know about that, but Cyrus… he assisted."

Maxie beams at his younger colleague. "Wow. Cyrus cooking! I want to try some!"

"G-Ghetsis did most of the work."

"Nonsense." Archie pumps his hands into the air. "Come on, to the kitchen!"

* * *

Ghetsis uses dry towels to take out the tray. "Why not oven gloves?" a nosy aristocrat huffs, whose whining Ghetsis promptly ignores.

"Lava Cookies?" Maxie gasps.

"Your _brain_ is a Lava Cookie." Ghetsis smacks Archie's grabby paw away. "It's hot, idiot. Stand aside."

"Is that cioccolato?" Giovanni takes a deep whiff of the steaming tray. "Oh, it's _warm_ chocolate!" A faraway look dawns on his once-hardened eyes, melting away the years, peeling away the tough façade.

Ghetsis brings the platter to the living room, answering the unanimous consent of eating on the floor (even Lysandre agreed). In fact, that pampered aristocrat is the first one to try the sweets.

"The chocolate is stuck in my hard palate."

"Oh boo hoo." The urge to roll his eyes has never been so great. "Let me play you a song on the world's smallest violin."

Archie's ripping into the cookies as if there's no tomorrow. "Oh man, G-man. This batter is _heavenly!_ It just melts in my mouth! What is this scrumptious concoction?"

"Chocolate chip cookies."

"Amazing," Giovanni mumbles. He's on his seventh cookie. "Silver would love these…"

Maxie heads to the kitchen. "Anyone want milk? We have whole milk, 1%, 2%, nonfat, Moomoo Milk, Almond Milk, Coconut Milk…"

"Catch 'em all," Ghetsis says. _According to N, it's even better than those chocolate wafer cookies with sweet crème in the middle._

"Grand idea. Hey, who else wants me to heat their milk? Cyrus?"

Cyrus looks up from his untouched cookie. "I'm sorry?"

"You can dip cookies in milk," offers Ghetsis. _And you can grow another feet or so._

"Oh. That sounds… interesting. Maxie, do you mind heating a glass for me?"

Maxie returns with the milk and utensils. _Why do you need chopsticks to eat cookies—Oh, never mind._ The professors cheer Archie on as he guzzles carton after carton of milk. Giovanni starts a betting arena for how much cookies Archie can fit in his mouth (Maxie won, surprise surprise).

"This is… decent," says Lysandre. "Unorthodox, but surprisingly decent."

"Says the one who's licking his fingers." Ghetsis glances over his shoulder. "Can you chew any louder, Cyrus?" Cyrus covers his mouth. "That was sarcasm," Ghetsis quickly adds. "S-Sarcasm. I was kidding. Sheesh."

"I apologize," is the soft reply. _Come on…_ "But it's very warm, Ghetsis. I've never had anything quite like this back home. This… chocolate chip cookie. I hope I'm saying that right." His eyes crinkle. "I'd like to assist you when the next opportunity arises, if that's okay."

_HoLY ZeKrOM._ Ghetsis swipes a cookie and rams it into his mouth. _Giovanni's smirking so loudly, that stupid idiot…_ He forces a deep breath into his tightening lungs, summoning every ounce of his ego to formulate a sophisticated reply:

"Whatever."

As the rain pours on, time is lost to the raging monsoon. The professors have transitioned from Mafia to Um, a type of competitive card game, Exploding Skitties, another type of card game—a spicier version, to Karaoke.

"How about storytelling?" Maxie suggests to enthusiastic nods. He waits for everyone to settle down before starting.

"This is a true story that took place over Break. Now, Archie and I believe in science. In research and proven theories… But all that changed with the arrival of a single letter. Someone—or something—had sent us tickets aboard a five-star luxury train…

"This is the mystery of the Reinbo Express."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mental health is also important to maintain during these unprecedented times. Please take care of yourself and those around you! 
> 
> If my stories make you smile, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi! Thank you for reading!   
> https://ko-fi.com/banhss
> 
> Incidentally, I've opened a Pokemon(Villain) Ask Blog if anyone's interested ;) Let's have some PG fun:  
> https://banhsuniverse.tumblr.com/


	15. Flowers of Alola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unlikely bond blossoms.

_"HORRIBLE,"_ Maxie had said. Sworn, even. _"As a fellow coffee drinker, this place is a **sacrilege** on the sacred art!" _

_I don't think it's that bad._ This place, the Heiau Study, sits on the very top of volcano, next to the farthest residential hall. A cozy, popular place to study, it includes a large quiet area, a virtual fireplace, and even typewriters for aesthetic.

"It's that weird dude again," a student whispers as Cyrus passes. "All that coffee can't be good for his complexion."

"Ruby, shut yer trap!"

The café isn't crowded today, but that's only because it's not yet 8 am. Student workers refuse to look at the professor in the eye as he orders his usual dark coffee. On a side note, the dining establishments here do not accept cash. Transactions are conducted with funds on the Rainbow Card, the official university I.D.

"Y-Your number," murmurs the student worker named Rosa. Cyrus thanks her before finding a place to wait.

"Number 369!"

Cyrus approaches the counter. A different student worker, one with odd sunglasses on his bleached hair, flashes the professor a wicked smirk as he hands the coffee cup.

"T-Thank you…"

"No prob, dude! Oh, here's your bagel."

_Dude?_ "I didn't order this."

"Yeah you did! I totally understand," the man adds in a whisper. Spicy cologne mixed with sweat and… corn chips. "Remember to eat between essays!"

"I-I assure you, I didn't order the bagel. My receipt—" The pastry smooches Cyrus's lips.

"Dude, it's got your spit on it now!" The man bursts into snorting laughter, arms slamming the granite counter top.

"GUZMA!"

ACK!" Before he leaves, Guzma flashes another wink to the disbelieving Cyrus. The latter does not return the mirth.

* * *

As the bell chimes the familiar love melody, Cyrus breaks off another piece of bagel to the ever-needy Weavile. The Starlies squawks angrily, Weavile sticks out its tongue, and Cyrus breaks the bagel in half.

"Mreow," purrs Mittens, the school Glameow. _Into thirds then._

"Hey!"

That gruff voice belongs to a young woman, one with baggy sweatpants and a resting scowl. Her pink-and-yellow hair bounces with each slouched step. She storms up to him, her smoky eyes drilling holes into his body. "You're the numskull who's been feedin' Mittens!"

"N…Numskull…?"

"Yeah! You, numskull! Your floppy ears need me to repeat that?" She whips her head, smacking him with her ponytails. "It's not like I appreciate ya takin' care of Mittens while I was gone."

Cyrus's train of thought had plunged off the valley a long time ago. The young woman glowers down, that piercing gaze raking up and down his well-dressed form. "Ya got a big interview comin' up?"

"I have a class to teach—"

Her scowl deepens, and on instinct his own frown hardens as well. Mittens the Glameow is entranced by its swooshing tail. "I'm Plumeria."

Before he can reply, she's already gone. Cyrus stands there, much more confused than irritated. The bell rings again. The gates of silence burst open, and students pour into the courtyard.

Cyrus runs to his office. That's enough social interaction for the next six hours.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Cyrus."

Cyrus looks up from his paperwork. "Hello, Maxie. How was your Geology class?"

"Geo _graphy._ " Maxie removes his glasses. "You, er… left without me today."

"My apologies. I didn't want to disturb your sleep."

"Hmm." Those red eyes wander about the sparse office. "So. Anything exciting happened _after_ you left me to walk up here by yourself?"

"No." His bespectacled colleague lifts an eyebrow. Cyrus sighs. "A student worker gave me a bagel at The Study."

"You actually _went_ there? The coffee tastes like sawdust! It's overpriced, just like everything in this university! Okay, so once I got a sandwich from Rainbow Café, but they wouldn't let me have it because I didn't have sufficient funds in my Rainbow Card…"

Cyrus cracks a smirk. Maxie's fuming on and on about the overpriced food and lack of faculty respect is pleasant background noise as he resumes his work.

* * *

After his 3 o'clock CS lecture, Cyrus ventures into what students call "North Campus" for a cold can of vending machine coffee. Despite what everyone says, there _is_ indeed a difference in quality in various areas of campus. This particular machine dispenses bitter, more concentrated coffee… presumably from sunlight exposure.

Something shifts in the extremes of his vision. _A wild Pokemon?_ A banana peel flings to his dress shoes.

_That bleached hair…_ "Guzma?"

Guzma jumps. For a second there, a touch of horror flashes across those grey eyes. Then he whirls back, vigorously slaps himself, and returns with his usual smirk.

"Yeah, it's ya boy Guzma, destruction in human form! You! Uh… Coffee Guy!"

"Why are you sifting through the rubbish bin?"

Guzma blinks. "Uh… hah! HAHAH! I accidentally threw away my homework!" He snatches a random wad of paper. "Found it!"

Cyrus looks over the rubbish one, one overflowing with plastic bottles. He kneels beside an armful of fallen containers and begins picking them up.

"Dude…?"

"The Court of Sciences usually have an overflowing recycling bin." Cyrus crumples the can of Soda Pop before putting that in the bag. "Campus Maintenance also recollects recyclables… I can connect you, if you want."

Guzma closes his jaw. He rubs his ears, as if he'd misheard.

"Your… purple eye makeup is smeared," Cyrus says.

"This ain't ordinary makeup yo! It's Plume's special Mauve Magic Eye Shadow!" Guzma glances around the apathetic passerby. "You… You're not gonna make fun of me?"

"I see no reason to."

"You are so _weird,_ dude." Cyrus frowns. Guzma snorts. "In a good way." He stands, swinging that half-filled bag over his broad shoulders. _If he didn't slouch, he might be as tall as Giovanni,_ is the sudden thought.

"Do you have a safe place to put that?" Cyrus mumbles.

"Don't worry about it." Guzma shuffles to the nearby Music Building and proceeds to raid the rubbish bins there. He looks up to see a spiky blue head behind a mountain of recyclables. "Brah. Don't you have better things to do?"

_I have lecture in fifteen minutes._ "Your bag is almost full. I believe you can get…" _Seventy, ninety…_ "1,600 Poke for that."

"1,590." Guzma laughs. "You collect too?"

_Back then, yes. That's how I paid for rent._ "I have to go." Cyrus offers a nod. "Keep up the good work, Guzma."

"Um… yeah." Guzma watches that Woobat speed down the court. The latter suddenly freezes, looks around, then darts to the nearest building as an onslaught of students surges through the gates.

* * *

After Cyrus locks his office, Maxie and Archie were already waiting for him.

"Hey, Cyrus!" Archie swings an arm over his smaller colleague. "How was your day?"

"Same as usual." _Complaints over lecture material. Complaints over assignments. And yet, no one showed up to office hours._

"May and Brendan stopped by," Maxie says with a crooked smile. "Norman sent over Lava Cookies, and they happened to have extras! Holy Groudon was it simply delightful!"

"May gave me the cold shoulder," Archie mutters.

"May? What nonsense are you spouting, Archie? She asked me if you were busy so she could deliver some Cookies!" 

"Do you think May has a twin?"

"That's… plausible. You know Black and White, Ghetsis's students? He told me they're not related at all to Hilbert and Hilda. But I swear, they could pass for identical twins!'

"If that's the case, I don't think May's lookalike likes me very much…" Archie stops. "Cyrus, what's up?"

Cyrus transfers the empty Lemonade can from the rubbish bin to the recycling bin before rejoining his colleagues. "Nothing. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"Whose turn is it to cook?" Maxie says. "Giovanni's?"

"Lysandre." Archie shudders. "I'm a little worried though… he said he was making some sort of regional dish with fresh chicken blood."

* * *

The Coq au Vin sat in his stomach through the night. As Cyrus left for RRU in the wee cracks of dawn, his stomach would give awful cramps.

He clutches his lunchbox, at the leftovers Lysandre had so generously packed just for him. _Lysandre worked hard to make this. He tried his best, so disposing of this is not an option._ Cyrus sways to a tree, where his body shakes with an unpleasant dry heave.

He throws up on the way to University. The steep climb up the volcano is brutal, especially on an empty stomach plagued with occasional cramps.

At last, Cyrus reaches Maxie's detested coffee place. The professor orders his usual black coffee, Rosa stares at her fingernails as she completes his transaction, and all is well.

After ten minutes of waiting, Cyrus heads to the counter. His coffee sits there, the steam already a weak wisp. Another student worker receives his receipt, crumples it up, tossing it to a can of disposed paper slips.

"Is Guzma working today?" Cyrus wasn't aware of those words leaving his mouth until he hears it. Students stare at him. Even the staff turns his way.

Cyrus keeps his head down as he flees the café.

* * *

After the sixth sensation of being sucker-punched in the gut, Cyrus finally closes his laptop. He locks his office, exits the building, and walks until he reaches his favorite sunny spot behind the Lavender Library.

The Coq au Vin is cold. Thus begins the hunt for a microwave. Cyrus settles in with his chicken blood soup and begins to eat.

"Mreow…" Even the Glameow cringes at the smell.

"It's not that bad." Cyrus swallows a mouthful of oxygen before ingesting the stew. Mittens watches as the man barrels for the nearest water fountain.

"Hey."

Cyrus plugs his nostrils, swallows, and looks up. "G-Good afternoon…" He covers his mouth. "Erm… Plumeria?"

"Hmph. That seat taken?" The student slides in next to the professor. "You need to go lie down?"

"I…" Cyrus forces his hiccups down. "I am fine." Plumeria squints at the crimson stew. She wipes her glistening lips. Shifts her weight to the other side. Cyrus sets his lunchbox in the space between them. "I have another spoon," he mutters. "It's clean, I assure you… B-But if you don't want to, you don't have to…"

Plumeria snatches the spoon. "Only cuz you offered." She ingests a glob of tender chicken breast, making sure to masticate its gooey flesh. "Huh. Whaja cath?"

"Coq au Vin."

Plumera licks the box clean. "Cock ow what? Oh, this lunchbox is cute."

"Coq au Vin, a dish from Kalos… Thank you, I suppose. It consists of braised chicken, white onions—" His head snaps up. "How old are you?"

"T-Twenty-five?"

"There's Burgundy wine in there." _That's only two years away from mine._ Cyrus keeps his gaze on his hands. "There's also rooster blood."

Plumeria chokes on her spit. "PFT! Damn, you almost got me there!" Her smirk falls at his somber expression. "H-Hold up. Like, _Tapu Koko_ blood?"

"Tofu… I'm sorry?"

"You're kidding me. You actually _sacrificed_ the land deity for some delicious stew?!"

"My colleague made this." Cyrus's gaze flickers to the side, to an exit. "I think it's just Combusken blood one can purchase from the Kalosian markets here."

Plumeria squints at him. He scoots back until half his ass hangs off the bench. Then she snorts. "Thanks for the pick-me-up. I needed that." She then sighs. It's a long, deep sigh that pushes on her strong shoulders.

"My dumb friend got fired yesterday," she says. "Came back crying, wouldn't leave his stupid room. I came in, saw the windows were broken." Plumeria hugs her knees. "Numskull's too nice. I keep telling him, but he can't look the other way when he can help someone."

She sighs again. "All cuz of a stupid bagel. I don't get it, the school's filthy rich. I've seen them toss away good food at the end of the day… like, food that's still _hot._ Dining hall food… Fricking dumb Guz got fired just for being a decent human."

Cyrus's stomach feels like ice. Plumeria looks at him, and he immediately jerks his head away.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault, idiot." She taps his forehead with a knuckle. The bell chimes. "Well," Plumeria says, standing up. "Sorry to bother you. I just… needed to get that off my chest." Her fists are released with a faint hiss. "Thanks, numskull."

Cyrus watches the colorful head slink away. He buries his face into his sleeve, keeping it there until he hears the pitter-patter of the encroaching ocean of students.

* * *

"You do it."

"Nuh-uh! You got here first!"

Cyrus clears his throat. "You may come in. I still have office hours."

A scuffling. Then Gold is forcibly shoved into the room, followed by his fidgeting friend. "Um. Yo." Crystal smacks him in the back of the head. "I-I mean… g-good aftern-n-noon, Professor C-Cyrus. What's up?"

"Holy Lugia." Crystal licks her lips. "Gold wants to know if you've read over that document."

Cyrus tilts his head. The students exchange glances. "T-The reqs," Gold squeaks. "O-Our cash advances for Mechanics Club… The form we gave you three days ago."

"Three days ago…?" Cyrus checks his cabinets. Skims through his folders, turning to his mounting pile of to-do documents. Departmental agendas, instructor evaluations, research proposals…

_There!_ Cyrus slams the paper on his desk. "This one, correct? The cash advance for the impact wrenches. My apologies, I'll get this done as soon as possible."

Gold makes a small noise in his throat. "It's… kinda due at five today?"

"I'll get this in before—" Then Cyrus sees the clock. His blood runs cold. "What is _matter_ with you…?"

"W-What?"

"I wasn't talking to you." With his favorite feather pen tucked behind his ear, Cyrus swings himself over the window. The students rush forward, but that blue head is already gone.

One minute later, the professor stumbles back into his office via the door. "Here's the receipt," he says through breaths. "It should take 2-3 days… hah, for processing."

Gold closes his gaping jaw. "Holy Ho-Oh did you _run_ all the way to the Activities Office?"

"Yes." Cyrus gingerly rubs his chest. That rooster blood is swimming turbulent laps in his stomach. "My apologies. I… I'll be on top of everything next time, I promise."

"That's okay." Crystal tugs Gold's arm. "Well, we have to run too. Thanks again, Professor Cyrus."

"Yeah," Gold says. "We didn't expect… Um. Thanks. Thank you. Thanks—"

"Yeah, thanks." Crystal yanks his cap, and they're gone.

* * *

"Bonsoir, mon ami!"

Cyrus gives a deep nod. "Good evening, Lysandre."

Lysandre beams. "Allow me to accompany you back to the mansion. Comment était ta journée?"

"The usual." _I got someone fired. I almost missed the deadline to apply for club funding. I am a walking disaster._ "And yours?"

"Someone delivered this to my office." It's a neat stationary sprayed with faint floral perfume. Indented lips mark a line of cursive signature. _What is an 'XOXO?'_ "Though I was flattered by her passion, I had to decline. Oh, but worry not, I promised my colleague I'd treat her to a five-star buffet next month."

"That's nice."

"Merci. Ah, speaking of which…" He gives Cyrus's lunchbox a good shake. "Incroyable! You actually _finished_ my Coq au Vie?" A tear glistens in those crisp blue eyes. "Heheh… Giovanni just lost 50K!"

The two approach the entrance of the woods. Lysandre turns. "Pardon me?"

"Nothing." Cyrus squeezes his hands. _What should I do now, Lysandre?_ "Really, it's nothing. I sneezed."

"Right…" Lysandre gives it five minutes before continuing. "Have you eaten Vichyssoise, Cyrus? My ancestors used to thicken the soup with blood, you see. It was a quite popular thickener back then. Since you've so graciously expressed enthusiasm in the Coq au Vie, I'll make a batch just for you!"

"T-That's not necessary."

"Nonsense!" Then Lysandre scowls. "Oh, but it's Ghetsis's turn to cook today… Some kind of 'churri' sauce with 'deviled shrimp.'" He shivers. "What an ominous name. Mayhaps I should just consume yoghourt and call it a day."

* * *

Cyrus had eaten spicy foods in his life. Once, he'd survived a week on a pouch of hot sauce. Nothing came close to deviled shrimp though, in that half of the room (Lysandre especially) had to rush for milk or sugar. Giovanni and Maxie were the least affected.

_"I don't want this to go to waste, so you're taking leftovers with you,"_ Ghetsis had snapped before Cyrus could protest.

The Study looms above him. Cyrus clutches his lunchbox, feeling the warmth of the food on his chest. He takes a deep, dew-scented breath, squares his shoulders, straightens, and marches in.

"S-Sapphire, the f-f-fireplace ran out!"

"P-Probably just the t-thermostat, R-R-Ruby!"

Blustery gales divert all attention to the source of the blizzard. This time, Rosa hides under the counter, but her morbid curiosity is too great to suppress.

"I need to speak to the supervisor," the professor says in a low monotone. Within nanoseconds said student supervisor is brought out. Then the big cheese, who rolls her eyes at the frowning man.

"We don't offer refunds. Complaints, take them to Student Affairs in Housing."

"Then would you so kindly accompany me to the On-Campus Housing Office? This is a matter of personal importance."

* * *

Cyrus has a late lunch today. It involves him mostly staring off into space while Mittens sniffs the bloody contents of his lunchbox.

_Was I too harsh? Professors shouldn't be involved with internal student affairs…_ He grabs his head. It was nerve-wracking just to _step_ into the residential area. They were just… _staring_ at him. The students…

Hiding in the office until the next lecture doesn't sound like a bad plan.

"That's him!"

Two warm bodies drop themselves on opposite ends of the bench. _The exits are covered._ A big hand grasps his arm, pinning him in place.

"Numskull, guess what?"

"Plumes, you're scaring him." Guzma shoves his face into Cyrus's personal bubble. "WOOBAT DUDE! The craziest thing happened to me! Like, I was all selling my bottles when—"

"Guz, your breath stinks!"

"It's the sardines, man! URP! Woah, it really does!"

"Here. Hydrate or diedrate, ya moron."

Cyrus wretches himself from the quibbling duo. His lunchbox grasped like a shield, the professor backs away until he hits the library wall. Then he's running.

"Wait, Woobat! I got good news yo!"

Plumeria leaps down from seemingly nowhere, and Cyrus screeches to a halt. Guzma is behind him, stalking closer and closer like a malevolent Ariados.

"I-I don't have lunch money on me right now," Cyrus blurts.

Plumeria scowls. "Ya dumb numskull, we just want to talk." She extends a hand. "Come on, Mittens is waiting."

* * *

Back at Mitten's spot, Cyrus watches as the students gobble down Ghetsis' deviled shrimp like ravenous Gyaradoses. He quietly refills their water bottles.

"DUDE!" Guzma's face is as red as a Tamato Berry. "Your friend's crazy! Who puts this much chili into food?"

"His friend cooked Tapu Koko blood!"

"HUH?!"

"They're my colleagues," mutters Cyrus, handing the students napkins. "And the blood is part of the cuisine…"

"Guz, you should bring him some Poke. I feel bad eatin' his stuff all the time."

"Fuck yeah! Ya boy Guzma's marinated Poke's the best in Alola!" He whips out his phone, pressing it into Cyrus's face. "Dude, look what Housing sent me!" Plumeria wretches the phone away and holds it at a reasonable distance. "Plumes went with me cuz I wasn't scared or nothin'! So we went to the office, and everyone was there! Like, the big cheese and everything!

"Dude, they were like: 'We apologize for the arbitrary termination of your contract' blah blah." Guzma rummages through his pockets. "Woobat, look at this!"

The golden tag reads, " _Guzma, Student Supervisor."_

"They promoted me, man! Not only did I get my job back, but they've instituted a new policy that gives out a selection of bagels with a purchase of a single beverage! It's a pilot program to combat food insecurity!"

Cyrus utters a soft sigh of relief. But Guzma isn't done yet. "Here's the tea: the homies say it was the Ice King's doing!"

The professor stiffens. Plumeria rolls her eyes. "You really think the _Ice King_ would go out his way to stick up to you? What the _heck_ would a professor be doin' all the way up there anyway? Ya trippin'."

"Dude, the homies _swore_ it was him! It was so tense in there that someone had to go to the hospital! Like, even the fire went out-- Dude, where you going?"

"Congratulations on your promotion, Guzma," Cyrus says flatly. "Farewell."

Guzma stands. "We're throwing a party at Shady House tonight. You should totally come."

_Party = people = socialization._ Cyrus shakes his head vehemently. _I'll stand out like a shiny Gyarados._ "You don't even know me. It's unwise to invite strangers to intimate gatherings."

Plumeria scowls. "You ain't a stranger." Then she hits her forehead. "Duh! I never got your name!"

_Behold the hole I've dug for myself. Will they know?_ "My name is Cyrus…" Spoken in a muffled mumble. "I am a professor—"

Guzma flashes a wicked smirk. "Welcome to the squad, brotha Cyrus! Come here!"

"I-I'm sorry, I'm not—"

"Us transfers gotta look out for each other," Plumeria barks, flicking her fingers on his forehead once again. "I know it's personal, but how old are you, Cyrus?"

Cyrus mutters something. Guzma gasps. "DUDE! My brother from another mother! My sweet 28's coming up yo, we can both have our celebrations on the same day!"

"I am _not_ a transfer, I am a pro—"

Guzma swings a tattooed bicep over the smaller man. "Screw lecture! Come on, Cyrus, me and Plumes want to show you something wicked cool!"

* * *

"You ever been to the Activities Center, Cy?" Plumeria says.

_"Cyrus,"_ the professor mumbles. "And yes, I have. It's the only place with free printing on campus."

"There's other places too," Plumeria huffs. "Ya just gotta look for them." They push through the wooden doors. "Ever been to the Food Closet?"

"Food… Closet?"

"Get that cute dumb skull of yours out of the clouds." She flashes a bright grin. "You're talkin' to the Director of Basic Needs, so I'll forgive you." Guzma gestures excitedly to his friend as if presenting her on a pedestal. "It's down here." 

"There's a line," Cyrus whispers. He drags his hand through his carefully gelled hair until there's a decent partition to hide behind.

"You are one weird little man." Guzma's rubbing his elbow on Cyrus's head, tossing up the sticky network even more.

"Dia, we've been waiting for hours!" groans a student with a green scarf. "My feet's falling asleep."

"They run out of string cheese fast, Pearl. We'll bring Platinum next time."

"Heh. You really think she'll wait in line for _free_ food?"

"True, but she _has_ to try the string cheese—" Then gazes meet. Cyrus cowers behind a guffawing Guzma. Fortunately, Plumeria's dragging them down the stairs before Dia can call out any names.

In the basement is a cooler room of sorts. A young man with bright, dyed blue hair and a black beanie runs up to the grinning Guzma. Fistbumps, headbumps, and explosion sounds are exchanged. "Naupa, this is Cyrus. He's dope."

"Pleasure to meet'cha man, always a big fan—Dude, where'd your eyebrows go?" Plumeria rams her elbow into the Grunt's back. Naupa abruptly moves on. "J-Just finished packing salad yo. Ranch so dope it… uh… makes lettuce tasty… bro." _What strange mannerisms. They must like moving their hands when they talk._ Cyrus attempts to copy a gesture, only for his fingers to tangle around themselves.

He isn't aware of Plumeria's intense staring.

"You sure you don't want to come to the party, Cy?" Guzma says. "We'll have pizza, cheese pizza, Alolan Pizza, chicken wings, Soda Pop, Malasada… Naupa will be there too! He lives with us after all!"

"They're idiots, but they're my cute, dumb brothers and sisters," Plumeria grunts. Still, Cyrus refuses. _Is that… a flicker of disappointment in her eyes?_

Naupa gestures the professor into the cooler. Boxes of non-perishable items line the shelves. "Oatmeal for breakfast, tuna for lunch, dinner rolls for dinner," raps the student. "Feedback? Leave it in the… uh… front. Er." He's doing that thing with his hands again, in addition to bouncing up and down. "Cy-dude, grab anything you want. Food."

Plumeria opens the freezer. "Cyrus." He catches the thing: a sticky wrapper of an orange crème popsicle.

"I don't want—"

Guzma snatches a handful of ice cream. "I'll go borrow some hammocks."

"Gotcha." Plumeria smirks. "Let's go, Cyrus, or all the good spots will be taken."

* * *

"They only had one hammock left," Guzma grunts. He chomps on his popsicle. "OOOOGH!"

"Remember the brain freeze, idiot." Plumeria slaps a Fresh Water into his hands. "Cyrus, sit."

"Dude, there's a big hole next to me! I don't bite!" Guzma sniffs his armpits—and winces. Plumeria smacks his big head. After ten minutes of the gesturing aggressively, Cyrus gingerly moves to sit next to a beaming Guzma.

"I need to catch up," said man says after a peaceful silence. A cool breeze blows past leaves like a phantom train passing through. "It's hard to stay motivated… but I think I got this. I think I can do it, Plumes!"

"Good. I got my own catchin' up to do." Plumeria raises a thin eyebrow. "How about you, Cy? What classes you taking?"

"I _teach_ classes, Plumeria! I am not a transfer student, nor am I a returning student. I am a professor, and I don't think such intimate relationships are appropriate—"

A napkin smashes his chin. "Your ice cream's melting," she grunts. "Idiot, watch your shirt unless you want to bomb that interview."

Guzma leans back on the hammock. He watches a Beautifly pass by. "You passing your classes, Cy? Of course you are. Me, I had repeat remedial biology. Shit was brutal."

"Language," Plumeria hisses.

"Fuck! Sorry. Hey, so Plume's thinking of getting residency. Got any good med schools recommendations?"

"S-Says the one going into kinesiology!" Plumeria's ears are dark pink. "S-So we're both prepping for med school, so what? Heh, not like it's gonna happen any time soon…"

Cyrus scowls. "Don't ever sell yourselves short. Yes, it can be a scary, difficult road, but you shouldn't give up. You two were accepted in Rainbow Rocket University for a reason, never let anyone tell you otherwise."

The students are gaping at him. Cyrus winces. _Why can't you just keep your big mouth shut?_

"Cyrus." When Guzma speaks, his rough voice is tender. Almost… raw. "You, uh… live on campus?"

"No." _I live in the forest._

"You know Po Town?" Plumeria murmurs, all while avoiding eye contact. "It's on Ula' ula Island. Takes about ten minutes to commute." She grits her teeth. Fidgets with her bands. "You… done with your day?"

"No." _I'm three days behind schedule, not to mention I haven't revised my notes for the 8 am tomorrow._

Plumeria rolls her eyes. Guzma politely steps in. "No pressure, but it'll be rad if you hung out with us at the Shady House. You'll put the 'study' in 'study parties,' Cyrus,"

Another blissful silence. The bell chimes its evening tune, prompting the lamps to light up the cobblestone paths of Rainbow Rocket University.

"Hey," Plumeria says. "Show Cyrus The Thing."

"The… Oh yeah! The Thing!"

"The Thing," Cyrus echoes. Guzma rubs his fists with an ominous cackle. The latter raises his hand, Cyrus cringes, but that palm only waits patiently.

_Is that what Archie referred to as a 'High Five?'_ Cyrus, not knowing what else to do, timidly raises his hand.

"Jellyfish!" Guzma yanks his arm back. It's the way he did it, bending his wrist and fingers to create the illusion of a jellyfish swimming backwards.

"Just kidding bro. Let's hug it out." Guzma jerks back in the same sine wave spasm, wiggling his body as if he'd lost his spine with a proclamation of, "BIGGER JELLYFISH!"

"Guzma…"

"For reals bro. No BS." Guzma holds up his pinkie finger. "Hah! Smaller jellyfish…" uttered in a gentle whisper as the pinkie floats away.

"What fool do you take me for?" Cyrus snaps. Plumeria's lips are tugged upwards, that mere movement softening the entirely of her features. She's eyeing his hair. He feels her fingers twitching with anticipation. She flicks his forehead instead.

Guzma throws his head back in a hearty cackle. "You just keep brightening my day, Cyrus! That's the Skull Squad Handshake. I'll test you next time, so you better ace it!"

* * *

Cyrus stops walking. "Excuse me. Are you waiting for someone, Ghetsis?"

Those green wisps of hair stand on end. "N-N-NO! NO! Why the HECK would you say that?" Ghetsis smothers his collar. "Idiot."

"My apologies. I'll get out of your way."

"Hey!" Ghetsis blurts—and instantly clenches his teeth. "Uh. I-It's dark outside. You might get jumped. I don't want to explain anything to that volatile old man."

"I see." Cyrus slowly lifts his gaze from the ground. "May I accompany you home?"

Ghetsis shrugs. The two professors walk in silence under the starry night sky. They stop for a flock of Torchic to cross the road before continuing on.

"We did a linguistics demonstration in class today," Ghetsis says. "Do I have an accent, Cyrus? Those brats keep saying I was pronouncing 'ideer' wrong."

"I understand you perfectly clear, Ghetsis."

"Cyrus."

The younger man squints. "Well… Sometimes you tend to have a hard 'r' after vowels. When you argue with Giovanni… your pronunciation gets slightly stronger."

"What are you…. Ah, fuhgeddaboudit." Ghetsis looks visibly confused while Cyrus hides his chuckle in his sleeves.

"Do I have an accent, Ghetsis?"

"Maybe. If you'd speak up."

Cyrus clasps his hands behind his back. "How was your day?"

"Stupid Colress blasted dubstep during lecture," is the gruff response. "It's worse than Clay's country music. Oh, and Black stopped by office hours to complain about my accent. White came by to drop off her sports equipment."

"You must get along well with your students."

"They're not bad—" Ghetsis shuts his mouth. "H-Hey, so whaddahbaoh shrimp?"

Cyrus shows his glistening lunchbox. "That reminds me. Can you high-five me, please?"

"What?" Ghetsis stares at the waiting palm. The former wordlessly complies, only for his colleague to slap that hand away.

"I-I apologize. I didn't mean to…" No matter how much Cyrus shakes his wrist, it won't bend. Stiff, like a plank.

"So what the _heck_ are you doing again?"

"I am trying to do a jellyfish."

"Oh." Ghetsis smirks. Could've been a smile. "Like this?"

"Yes! Amazing, how are you _doing_ that?!"

"A magician never reveals his tricks." Cyrus deflates. Ghetsis cackles. "Buuuuuuuuut exceptions can be made. Let's hurry back though, before the old man yells at us for missing dinner."

* * *

Cyrus ended his 8 am lecture early because the mood was starting to affect him as well. Right now, he's observing the chaotic noon rush of students, but no distinct pattern can be discerned. His designated lecture hall lies across the courtyard, all the way north next to the biggest research library on RRU.

_If I take a detour through Royal's Hall, I'd lose two minutes… But if I go straight, I might make it with five minutes to spare…_

"Cyrus? Who are you hiding from?"

Cyrus calmly turns around, despite his heart thrashing in his ribcage. "Why should I run and hide from my responsibilities as a professor?" He's hugging the wall as if he'll melt, but Giovanni doesn't point that out.

"Okay… Well, here."

"I already brought lunch, Giovanni."

"Unless you're planning to drink soy sauce, I brought you _real_ lunch." The older man pats the galaxy-themed lunchbox. "Since you barely touched my focaccia I spent hours making yesterday, you owe it to me to finish your portion."

"My apologies." Cyrus reluctantly accepts the gift. "Thank you."

"You need help walking to class?"

Cyrus scowls. "Don't you have class too? Your Behavioral Economics upper division?"

Giovanni chuckles. "Yes, but I wanted to make sure you didn't turn into a statue." He playfully ruffles that spiky blue hair. "Good luck, kid."

"I am _not_ a child…" That only makes his colleague laugh harder. In the process of fixing his hair, Cyrus happens to catch a ray of gold and pink.

Plumeria hurries away before the professor can even bid her good afternoon.

* * *

Cyrus had lunch in his office. As usual, Giovanni had packed a generous amount of focaccia. The mashed potato filling made him so nauseous he had to lie on the floor for five minutes. Nevertheless, he'd pay of his dues.

The weather had cranked an interval of sweltering when Cyrus steps outside. Like the other students, the professor seeks refuge in the wintry Lavender Library.

"Dude, when's the last time _you_ slept?"

"Ruby, yer so embarrassin'!"

Cyrus ducks into the Research Consultation Room, an often overlooked study space in the busy library. He finds an unoccupied couch and settles down with a book over his face.

"Yo, this thing's broken!" That voice carries from the rotunda into Cyrus's eardrums, a grating timber that jolts the professor from his microsleep.

"Guz, shut up! Don't even _think_ about smashin' that screen! Ya wanna get suspended _again?!"_

Gumza slams his fists on the table. "YO, WHO'S SELLING THEIR ENROLLMENT TIME?!"

Then Plumeria gasps. Guzma whirls around—and his scowl dissipates into a grin. "What's up, Cy—"

"You are a disruption to your peers' education." Then in a louder voice: "It is not polite to stare."

"Huh?"

"I wasn't talking to you." Cyrus keeps his steely gaze on the two Alolan students. Plumeria recoils ever so slightly. "Please come with me." He stops by the lending desk on his return to the empty Research Consultation Room.

Guzma leaps onto an unoccupied couch. "WOAH! Look how _plump_ these seats are!"

_"Guzma,_ we are in the library." Said student stiffens for a reason he cannot fathom. Cyrus slides Guzma a laptop. "You were trying to access the computers, correct? Do you know your username and password?"

"Yeah…" Guzma's typing resembles chicken pecks. "Coulda get one for Plumes too?"

"I don't need it."

Cyrus presents the other laptop to Plumeria, who mumbles a half-hearted thanks. She props the lid up like a shield.

"Cy," Guzma says. "When's your enrollment pass? They gave me a crappy time. I ain't trying to spend a fifth year in this shitty place."

"Language, Guzma. Have you asked your department for a Petition for Enrollment?"

"They don't fu—" Cyrus frowns. Guzma swallows loudly. "T-They don't like me, man." His eyes flicker to the side. "Plumes, what's wrong? It's not like you to be so quiet."

"Nothing." Plumeria scoots back until there's a chasm between her and the frowning professor.

"Plumes."

Plumeria drags her teeth over her gums. "C-Cyrus?" Her deep voice catches on his name. "W-We're tight, right? You're like a brother to m—to Guz."

Guzma sits up. "Plumeria…?"

"You're both the same age…" She's pulling at her golden highlights until they snap. "Nah, it can't be. That was… probably nothing. You're just a dorky, dumb numskull…"

A sinking feeling settles into Cyrus's stomach.

Guzma is nodding as if he understands everything. "Uh huh. Yeah, Cy's got a big head." He gives Cyrus a playful punch in the arm. "Seriously dude. How does 50 Poke sound for your enrollment pass?"

"Have you filled out your class planner?" Cyrus peers over the student's shoulder. "Guzma, these classes…"

"I need the minimum units for that aid yo."

"At their core, these classes are identical. You won't learn anything new—"

"Dude, chill." There's a growing edge in Guzma's normally carefree tone. "Why you so butthurt over my choices? You think I'm too stupid for this stuff?"

"I think you're downplaying yourself, Guzma. You have a lot of potential—"

Guzma shoves Cyrus away. "What the FUCK is wrong with you? I told you to shut up, but you keep flapping those FUCKING lips!" He brandishes the laptop like a mallet. "Learn your FUCKING lesson—"

_"Guzma."_ Plumeria silences the man with a solemn glare. Horror washes over his face once the realization settles in. "Sit down." She helps the shocked professor to his feet, even dusting his vest and fixing his hair. "Anything broke, Cyrus?"

"No." Hopefully this throbbing in his ribcage will go away soon.

"Holy fucking Lunala I am so fucking sorry, Cyrus." Guzma's eyes are puffy. "I-I didn't mean… Holy fuck what the fucking fuck's wrong with you, Guzma?! Shit!"

Plumeria squeezes her friend's arm. "Sorry," she tells Cyrus. "He's not… used to that kind of stuff…" A pause. "That's what the counselors always tell him. All empty words."

Cyrus steps back. "I'm sorry…"

Guzma's rubbing his face until his skin shines a dull, bright pink. "I'm a lost cause, Cy. Those snobs called professors don't want a thing to do with me. What's the point of trying if I'm just gonna fail…?"

Cyrus has no response to that. Plumeria guides a despondent Guzma to the couch.

"You even think I should still pursue med school?" It takes a while for Cyrus to realize she was talking to him. He stares down at his hands. They sit in silence to the _tick-tick_ of the office clock.

"In the end, it _is_ your education, after all." Cyrus keeps his gaze on the floor as he speaks. "Four years go by fast, and before you know it, you've graduated. You can't… replicate your time in college. If there are regrets…" He quickly catches himself. "My apologies. Just ignore me."

Plumeria gently taps his wrist. "Cyrus?" She shows him her laptop. "Is this manageable?"

"This 6-unit course will be quite heavy. Laboratory takes up six hours of your week, not to mention your other commitments in basic needs."

Her smile is soft, yet unwavering. "I… think I can do it. If I can't handle it, I'll drop something. Who knows, maybe I'll like that class and pursue research in that topic."

Cyrus nods. "I'm not well-versed in biology nor chemistry, but I will gladly be of assistance if you still need me."

Plumeria stares at him. Then she jerks away, crosses her arms and locks her jaw. "Dork," she murmurs under her breath.

Guzma slowly straightens. His eyes keep flickering to Cyrus as he types. "Plumes, you're actually taking Four-Eyes' class?"

"Archie's Ecology and Evolutionary Biology class is filled, Guz. You have to wait to be on the waitlist."

Guzma shifts in his seat, a pained, awkward motion. "Baguette's classes are full too. So is the Big Cheese's and Lettuce's, surprisingly enough."

"Guz, those ain't your major classes."

"It popped up on Recommended Classes… Hmm? Cy, what's up? You're looking at me funny."

"Those aren't their names, Guzma."

"I know. Look. 'G.I.' 'L.Y.' 'G.H.' 'M.X.' 'A.C.' for Archie! They don't put names, but _everyone_ knows whose initials."

"You haven't met them in person, so you're letting some title dictate their personalities?"

"Cyrus, take a chill pill. Professors don't care what students say; They're just here for the dough." Then Guzma flips his middle finger to the screen. "Damn, there's still space in Ice King's Physics Class. _Fuck you!"_

"You heard of the Ice King, Cyrus?" Plumeria says with a disarming smile. The man just stares at her. "Whatever you do, stay clear of him. I heard he downright made a student cry in class simply by staring at her. There, C.Y. on Rainbow Walk. Look at his rating. He's as worse as the Witch of Aether—"

Cyrus yanks his coat from the chair. "Laptop lending expires in six hours," he mutters. "Fines accumulate at a rate of 100 Poke a minute."

"Cy, where are you—" Guzma freezes at that glare. Even Plumeria stiffens. The professor storms out of the library, leaving two very confused students in his wake.

* * *

A darkening sky casts lengthy shadows on his office walls. Cyrus slams his laptop close, puts his face on his desk, and wraps his arms over his head.

"Am I really _that_ horrible of a professor…?"

_Tap-tap._ The door opens. "Cyrus? You okay?"

"Yes!" Cyrus mentally kicks himself. "I-I'm sorry, Giovanni, would you mind waiting for me outside? I need to lock up."

Giovanni isn't convinced but nods regardless. Once he's gone, Cyrus tips his head back in a deep, raw inhalation. _Focus._ It's impossible to focus. He drops his pens. _Holy Arceus what's wrong with you?!_

Cyrus closes the office door. As he turns the key, the back of his neck prickles. Something shifts in the extremes of his vision.

"You're a fucking _professor?!"_

Cyrus gasps. Whirling around presents him with a wide-eyed Guzma and Plumeria.

"I knew you was up to something when Big Cheese patted your head like that," she hisses. "If we hadn't followed you here, you would've kept lyin' to us!"

Guzma plants a foot forward. There's a bulge in his pockets, a knot in his neck. "You're just like the REST of them! Betcha all that was just an ACT to keep your job!" Veins throb across tattooed arms. "Fuck you, dirty little—"

"HEY!" Giovanni dashes into the scene in the nick of time. "STEP AWAY FROM HIM!"

"Guz, let's go! GUZ!!"

"STOP! I saw your faces! You two are in for a world of— Cyrus, let go!"

"Forget about it."

"But they—"

"Need I REPEAT myself?!" 

Giovanni cringes. "Cyrus, tell me what happened—"

The young man swats aside the concerned hand. "Leave me alone." He brushes past Giovanni, the latter staring with furrowed brow. Cyrus turns. "What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand? Go away!"

* * *

It didn't take long for Cyrus to run back. Giovanni had to physically stop him before he apologized himself into the ground.

"Why can't I do anything right…?"

Giovanni frowns. "Now what the hell brought _that_ on?"

And it spills from Cyrus's mouth. His innards burn after he finishes. Although it feels as if he'd just thrown up, his chest feels much lighter.

"Ouch." Giovanni shoves his fists into his pockets. Takes them out and inserts them back in. "That's rough, buddy." Then his silver eyes narrow. "Wait, _what_ did they call me? 'The Big Mozzarella?' On the interweb?"

"On the _Internet,_ there is a webpage called Rainbow Walk, 'RRU's unofficial guide to campus life.'" The sarcasm is deep, something Cyrus deeply loathes.

"How dare those brats…" Giovanni fishes for his flip phone. "Petrel, new assignment. Hack into Rainbow Walk—no, it's not a candy, it's on that global web thing. Yes, the one that talks smack about me and my colleagues. Find the creator and show them a world of—"

Cyrus coughs. Giovanni flushes. "Damn it Petrel I'm in an important meeting don't disturb me bye."

"Leave it be, Giovanni," Cyrus says after an awkward silence.

"But your reviews—"

"I can't change that. I can try, but… I'd just be deluding myself." He runs a hand over his hair, fingers untangling the sticky strands. "'Ice King.' Heh. How fitting."

"Damn it Cyrus, don't say that. Reviews are not representative of the entire student population."

"I know." Cyrus offers a thin smile.

"Sorry," Giovanni grunts. "I'm… not good with advice. You should talk to Archie or Maxie."

Cyrus's smile tugs. "Thank you for listening though. I… appreciate it."

A faraway look dawns on Giovanni's eyes. He's staring at the younger man with a strange expression, as if he's peering into another place in time.

"Are you all right?"

Giovanni blinks. Then he laughs, and he lays a firm hand on his colleague's shoulder. "Sorry, Cyrus. Thought you were my son for a second there."

* * *

"His door's open!"

"It's not _open-_ open! Plumes, stop… pushing me! NOOO!"

With an almighty shove from Plumeria, Guzma tumbles into the door. **_BAM!_** A dull white ceiling stares down on him.

"Office hours officially ended ten minutes ago."

Guzma scrambles to his ass. _A monotone cold enough to freeze your insides._ All traces of familiarity gone in those icy blue eyes. Not a muscle twitches in that smooth, stony mask.

"S-Sorry, du—sir."

"GUZ!" hisses Plumeria from behind the wall. "The script!"

Cyrus's gaze is bone-crushing. Guzma tears his eyes to the office walls. Unfortunately, there's not much to look at… except for the splotches of color on his desk. Two photographs, one taken with a weird "G" in the background while the other photo has the Treasure Town Theme Park frame.

"You _friends_ with Archie?"

"GUZ, FOCUS!"

"Nice office," Guzma blurts. Plumeria smacks her forehead. Cyrus's frown deepens, prompting icicles to snake down Guzma's spine. The latter's knees buckle, and he would've fallen flat on his face if Plumeria hadn't rushed in.

"P-P-Plumes, what do you even _do_ in office hours?!"

"I go over grades," the professor states flatly. "Syllabus classification, concepts explanation, petitions to drop my class." Cyrus clasps his hands behind his back. Tilts his head, taking the students' worlds with him. "Ah, you can also tell the Ice King how much you hate him to his face. I can't guarantee the tyrant cares, but at least you'll return with tales of splendor to your friends."

Plumeria makes a small, whimpering sound, and that isn't right. The professor begins packing his stuff. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have lives to ruin. Stand aside, please."

Guzma leaps to his feet. Even though the other man is a head shorter, his mere aura is extremely intense. "A-A-d-t-t-the—"

"Holy Solgaleo." Plumeria shoves Guzma aside. Cyrus wordlessly fishes into his pocket, presenting his faculty I.D. Blood drains from her face, but she bites her lips and force her chin up.

"The… The Ice King's heart is said to have frozen a long time ago…"

"I am _well_ aware—"

"He shouldn't have been sharing his food with students. He shouldn't have been helping collect cans, shouldn't have helped stupid Guzma get his job back! He ain't supposed to be a dorky numskull running around with his pathetic lunchbox!" Her voice reverberates through the empty office. "H-He fed Mittens, for crying out loud! He… got ice cream all over his dumb little face…"

She clutches her arms. "That… was the first time someone looked me in the eye, told I wasn't worth nothing. Looked at me in the eye and believed in me… the realest me… I was so proud of myself I actually caught up on my classes when I got back…"

"Plumes…"

Plumeria jabs a finger to the professor. "I kinda knew you were different. But whenever I talk to you, it's just like talkin' to a fellow transfer. I… I heard you, you know… when you said you weren't a student. You told us the truth, but… I guess I didn't want to believe it."

Guzma gently squeezes her quavering elbows. "You're the only to one who believes this delinquent could ever amount to anything," he tells the walls. "I thought I was lookin' after you, but… you were lookin' after _us_ all along. P-Pro…" That title refuses to leave his tongue.

Silence. A silence so thick Guzma's lungs turn numb from lack of use. He sneaks a peek over his shoulder. The professor had his back to them, presumably staring out the windows the entire time.

"Sorry," Guzma grunts. "That's… all we came here for. Let's go home, Plumes."

"It was fun."

The students freeze. The professor shows no intention to turn around, but even with the desk obscuring his body, those arms show a slight tremble.

"I… learned a lot." His tone falters, as if unsure whether to continue. "I've never… To be a student again was… You two taught…" Cyrus clicks his teeth, effectively ending the conversation.

Guzma nudges Plumeria. "Uh… I know it… can't go back to how it was, but…" He searches deep inside himself for the right words. "Uh… P-P-Professor Cy—"

Cyrus abruptly turns. "You are not in my class." Guzma's eyelids are fluttering. The former purses his lips. "I… I don't see why we can't be peers."

"Pears?"

Plumeria slaps her friend's skull. "Peers, idiot! That means he sees us as equals!"

"Keep in mind you won't receive special treatment." Cyrus lifts his gaze. "But…. what matters, what shines the brightest is one's self-worth and experience. In the end, titles are just arbitrary words…"

Guzma's head is hurting. "So...?"

"You needn’t address me as your superior." Cyrus steps forward. He raises a hand. Overcome with joy, Guzma swings for a powerful high-five.

"What the fu—"

"Jellyfish." Cyrus smirks.

Plumeria's face blossoms into a grin, but she quickly turns away before anyone sees that. "It's one-thirds of the secret handshake, ya big numskull…"

* * *

The stars are twinkling overhead. Dinner had been eaten, plates and floors have been cleaned. The man of the house walks down the hallway to find his colleagues pressed outside a door.

"Why are you spying on Cyrus's room?" Giovanni hisses, moving in for a closer look. 

"His students invited him to a study party," Maxie grunts.

"I'm worried," mutters Archie. " _Cyrus_ at a _party?_ Maybe we should go with him."

"He'll be fine," Lysandre says. "He's eighteen. He can look after himself."

"He's eighteen?" Giovanni echoes. The men pack in a little tighter. "What the… Why is he practicing swimming routines?"

A passing Ghetsis snorts. "He's practicing the Jellyfish. And _yours truly_ taught him. Now move!"

The nosy men immediately fly back when Cyrus opens the door. Dressed in a simple long-sleeved polo and jeans, he could easily pass as a student. "I'll be going now," the youngest man says. "Don’t stay up too late."

After three minutes, the professors move to the window. Cyrus had met up with two other students: a male and female with bleached, dyed hair, heavy eye makeup, slouched posture, and matching violet tattoos on their arm and midriff.

"Shotgun!" Maxie screeches as everyone makes a mad dash to the garage.


End file.
